


Little Cottage

by kittykat128



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ben doesn’t know he needs a hug, Cook Rey, Cooking, Cottagecore, Dead Parents, Domestic Fluff, English Countryside, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Food, Gardens & Gardening, Happy Ending, Little Forest AU, Mental Health Issues, Mental Illness, Multi, Orchards, Rey Needs A Hug, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, a pinch of angst at the end, antidepressants, farm animals, farmer Ben, grieving process
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:27:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26417950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittykat128/pseuds/kittykat128
Summary: Five years after leaving her small country town for London, Rey Niima returns home to come to terms with the death of her parents. Little does she know that the estranged son of her neighbors, the Solos, has returned in her absence. Over the course of a year, Rey and Ben come together, then apart as they learn what they want from life - ultimately coming to the decision that it’s each other.Inspired by the filmLittle Forest(2018), directed by Yim Soon-rye
Relationships: Leia Organa/Han Solo, Poe Dameron/Finn, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 27
Kudos: 48
Collections: Ijustfellintothissendhelp





	1. Peasant Bread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, and welcome to my first Reylo fanfic! I have been lurking in the fandom for months and after watching the film _Little Forest_ (2018) - which I highly recommend by the way, it's a great movie - I was finally inspired to write my own story. 
> 
> As a warning, this takes place in England and the majority of characters are English, but I am an American. I tried using British slang whenever I could, but I knew it would just be cringe, so although everybody sounds like an American, they are not! I apologize beforehand to anybody that will be offended by my Yankee sensibilities.
> 
> I will also like to thank [lena](https://twitter.com/bensoloswhore) on Twitter for creating the beautiful moodboards that you will see throughout the story. She is crazy talented and super nice to work with, so if you ever need any graphic for a fic (not just reylo), she is the one to go to, trust me!
> 
> And lastly, although I won't be making a playlist for this fic (I do have one for my Twilight fic [_Solstice_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26128819/chapters/63564091)), I do consider [the lakes by Taylor Swift](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tOHcAc3r2kw) to be the theme song for this story, so you could just pop that on whenever a new chapter is posted or afterwards to get into the mood if you want.
> 
> Okay, I think that's it. Enjoy!
> 
> CW // mention of dead parents

**WINTER**

The first thing Rey notices when she steps off the empty bus are the stars. With no clouds in the sky, she has a perfect view of the thousand pinpricks blazing white, yellow, and blue.

_Oh, how I missed you._

She lets out a breath she’s been holding in for five years, ever since she left this country town. The air comes out like dragon’s breath in the cold winter night.

The bus pulls away from the curb, heading back toward the depot. Rey adjusts the straps of her large backpack and sets off, her feet crunching in the thin layer of snow left over from yesterday’s storm. 

It’s almost midnight, her trip from London taking over ten hours. Walking, two trains, a bus, and now more walking. But Rey doesn’t mind. The arduous journey makes the city feel more far away than it actually is. 

She turns off the main road, starting up the dirt trail that runs through a small valley. Although there are no lights, she doesn’t worry about getting hit by a car. Only two families live on this road. Well, just one now. The Solos own the great mansion all the way at the end. It’s hundreds of years old and has been passed down through Leia Organa-Solo’s family for decades. Now she lives there with her husband Han and son Ben, who Rey has never met before. He’s several years older than her, and by the time she could remember, he had already gone away for school. During her time in London, he came back. Rey’s mother told her there was some sort of scandal, but she never learned the whole story. 

Rey comes around the corner then stops. A few hundred yards away on top of a hill stands her family home, dark and shuttered. Large grass fields sectioned off by crumbling stone walls and wooden fences surround the modest two-story cottage, meant for the goats that her family used to keep. Their pens, along with a chicken coop, lie on the other side of the house, out of view. Rey wonders if this was what it was like for Odysseus when he returned to Ithaca. At least she doesn’t have to disguise herself.

As she approaches the front door, Rey searches around in her bag’s front pocket for the key. It’s buried all the way at the bottom, past her metro card, hand lotion, and movie ticket stubs. She takes it out and unlocks the door. Rey takes a breath before stepping inside.

The smell nearly overwhelms her. Even though it’s been nearly two years since they’ve passed, the scent of her mother’s perfume and father’s favorite tobacco hangs in the air, stuck to the furniture, the curtains, the rugs. Rey keeps the door open despite the cold to get some ventilation, turning on the foyer light. She takes off her coat and boots, placing them in their appropriate cubby of the hall tree before moving into the kitchen.

Rey drops her backpack to the floor, rushing to the sink. She twists the faucet knobs, but no water comes. The pipes groan and pop as they work, trying to defrost. Rey prays that they don’t burst. She’s not in the mood to fix anything right now. As she waits for the water, Rey checks the refrigerator. Empty. After a sweep of the cabinets, she finds a few non-perishables; some flour, yeast, salt, sugar. She’ll have to go to the store tomorrow.

Rey’s stomach gurgles. She hasn’t eaten since the last train transfer to the bus when she scarfed down a sandwich and some crisps. 

_Guess I have to wait until morning. Unless…_

Rey remembers something. 

She was in grade school walking home in a good mood, having past her spelling exam. She couldn’t wait to tell her parents. 

When she walks in through the front door, she freezes at the sound of her parents quietly arguing in the kitchen. She walks slowly, listening.

“Okay, so if I bring our grocery budget down by twenty pounds, we have enough for petrol?”, her mother asks.

“Yes,” her father sighs “But Jodie, if we just got rid of these animals--”

“Nope, I won’t hear of it.”

“We’re losing money keeping them--”

“I don’t care Billy, they’re my babies. They give us milk and eggs. They’re not useless. Besides, I’ve always wanted animals.”

“I know.” her father takes his wife’s hand, brushing his thumb over her wedding band. “I know.”

Rey jumps into the room, wanting to cheer her parents up.

“Mommy, Daddy, I passed my spelling test!” Rey holds up her test sheet proudly. Her parents' faces instantly brighten. She doesn’t see her father cover up their bank papers with the morning’s newspaper.

Jodie takes her daughter onto her lap and presses a big kiss to her cheek. 

“I told you. You are so smart, sweet pea.”

“What’s for dinner?”

Billy stands up and goes to the other room, too ashamed to hear the answer. Meanwhile Jodie carries Rey from the kitchen table into the main cooking area.

“I thought, that we could pretend we’re in the olden times.” Jodie explains, “You know how you like pretending to be a girl on the moors?”

“Yeah, and pick berries.”

“Well, how about we have an olden times, dinner?” Jodie puts Rey down and begins taking out ingredients. “We can make a hearty stew and our own bread.” Jodie turns to her daughter. “How about that?”

“We can make bread?” Rey asks.

“I’ll teach you, c’mon.”

Rey looks down at the few ingredients left in the house. Water begins flowing from the faucet. 

“I don’t have stew, but I can make bread.” 

Rey waits for the water to warm then fills a cup with it to dissolve the yeast. Next she takes out a large bowl, combining the flour, salt, sugar, and watery yeast mixture. As she covers the dough to let it rise, she goes into the living room.

She knew it would be messy, but she had no idea it would be like this. Since she didn’t come back home right after her parents passed, the solicitors were tasked with the responsibility of going through their things and cataloguing them. They made a list and asked her what she wanted to keep and sell. Rey barely remembers telling them to just keep everything in the house and let it be.

Now she’s seeing the boxes filled with her parents’ belongings, all labeled and organized, stacked on top of the couch her father found at a flea market and the coffee table her mother inherited from her parents. It takes her a moment to tear her eyes away from them to the fireplace. Thankfully, there’s already a stack of cut firewood ready. She kindles a flame and goes back to the kitchen, taking the dough and separating it into two rolls, placed in separate bowls so they can rise again on their own. 

In the meantime she preheats the oven and takes her backpack upstairs. She walks down the narrow hallway, trying to not look at the family photos that line the walls to her room all the way at the end. 

_The floorboards still creak in the same place._

When she turns on the light in her room, she almost wants to laugh. It was a running joke between her and her parents that they were going to transform her room into a gym, or scrapbooking room, or chicken coop. It was always something different whenever they brought it up over the phone. Rey never believed them, but a part of her always assumed that they would move her things into storage, or change it into a guest room. And she was okay with that.

But now that she’s looking at her perfectly preserved childhood room, she lets out a cry of relief. Her pink bedding with white stars, the romantic poetry she wrote on the window frame with pencil, her butterfly dresser; It’s all still here. Rey opens one of the drawers and sees all the clothes that she couldn’t fit in her one suitcase, still folded the way her mother left them. 

After she’s changed into her pajamas, Rey goes back downstairs and checks on the dough. She doesn’t have any butter to spread on the top, so she puts the balls of dough into the oven and sets a timer for thirty minutes. She considers going back upstairs, but she knows she’s not strong enough to resist the bed, so she sits in front of the oven window and watches the bread bake.

_It’s so quiet._

It took Rey a week to get used to the noise in London. Sirens made her feel ill, for in the country the only reason you heard a siren was when somebody was dying, and most of the time you knew who it was. Although she never fell prey to any street hustler or panhandler, she was a little loose with her money. Whenever she saw a busker on the street, she had to give them a couple quid, no matter how much she needed it for lunch that day. Rey found the act of playing music in the midst of all that bustle a miracle, and she thought it should be properly rewarded. She could also never pass any charity street worker, for surely they wouldn’t be out in the street if the cause wasn’t in need of funds, right?

Rey took pride in her street smarts, but of course, being a single woman in a big city is never easy. There were the men that would say things to her. On the tube, the street, in the store, at work. _Especially_ at work. But she just breathed it in and exhaled it out, never letting it stay with her. She had no other option. And most of the time it was just words.

But then she remembers that woman with the red hair. It was winter, a snowstorm had just passed through and the streets were still icy. Rey was pissed at her landlord for not fixing the radiator in her flat, and telling him so on the phone. She didn’t notice the woman following her down the street until she was almost back to her place. It was like a sixth sense. The woman was on the phone as well, but she kept putting her phone out in front of her face, like she was taking a picture, and putting it back to her ear. In a second, Rey went through all the horror stories she’s seen online of human traffickers taking pictures of woman in the street and then snatching them up. She turned into the closest store and hid in the aisles until the woman lost track of her.

The landlord must have heard the fear in her voice, because when she built up the courage to return to her flat hours later, the radiator was bubbling and filling the space with warmth. She never spoke on the phone while out in public after that.

Rey focuses back on the nearly done bread rolls in front of her. _That’s all behind you_ , she thinks. _You don’t have to worry about creepy men, and human traffickers. At least not for awhile._

When the oven dings, Rey finds an oven mitt and takes the rolls out, placing them on a plate to cool. This last part is always the worse for Rey. Waiting for the delicious food to cool off so she doesn’t burn the skin off the roof of her mouth. There are already numerous scars from the times she didn’t have the patience. 

But somehow she finds the will power, and when she can hold it without burning, she tears into the roll. 

It’s dry, which she expected from the lack of butter, but it tastes just liked it did over ten years ago. Filling for the last meal of a long day.

…

Rey wakes up at dawn to the sound of a rooster crowing. At first she thinks she imagined it, some sort of auditory hallucination brought on from sleeping in her bedroom for the first time in five years. But after five minutes, it becomes clear, that she is not dreaming.

She goes downstairs, grabs her coat from the the mud room, then makes her way to the back door in the kitchen. She slips on the rain boots that are always left there and steps into her back yard.

Rey didn’t know what she was expecting. A bunch of empty pens, a dirt patch where her mother’s garden used to be. But not this.

Definitely not this.

Chickens line up along the the wiring of the coop Rey’s father built for her mom when they first moved here. The bright color of the wood hasn’t faded despite the weather, like someone has been touching the paint up. But Rey doesn’t have much time to ponder this; there are ten hungry hens and a roster for her to feed.

“How are you still alive?” Rey asks them as she heads towards the shed that holds the animal feed and other livestock tools. She knows the lawyers asked her what she wanted to do with the animals, but she must not have responded to that email. Or answered their phone calls. The idea of getting rid of her mother’s pets was just too much, so she tried to forget about them. She was hoping that maybe the lawyers would decide to sell them anyway, or somebody would come by, see a bunch of starving farm animals, and take them to a loving home. 

But they were still here, happy and healthy. As Rey put the feed into the chicken feeder, she tries to guess who it might be. Her first suspicions were the Solos, but they were busy with their own things. Leia is a former MP who spent her entire professional life living in London, so she spends her retirement growing roses in her greenhouse and writing about her adventures in horticulture on her blog. It’s pretty popular in the housewives above forty crowd. Her husband Han is a handyman that fixes all the typical stuff as well as farm equipment. If you need anything fixed in this town, you call him.

And Ben… Well, Rey doesn’t know what Ben does.

Rey peeks inside the hens’ cubbies and takes the few eggs into her pockets. She closes the coop door behind her and moves onto the goat pen. The little corral outside has what appears to be two goats laying down side-by-side in the dirt. Only when she gets closer does she realize that it’s actually one goat. She’s pregnant, her stomach the size of a large oval pumpkin. 

“Shit.” Rey has no idea how to help give birth to goats. She didn’t even know she had a billy. 

Rey cracks the door to the pen open, overcome by the scent of straw and goat feces. She takes in a deep breath of fresh air and goes inside. 

The four stalls are relatively clean and the water troughs are full. The other goats are content in their stalls, they even seem happy to see her. Rey scratches their heads and rubs their chins. Rey releases her breath and gets to work, filling their food containers and replacing the straw in the floor of their pens.

When Rey is done, she puts the pitchfork back in the shed, wiping the sweat off her brow. 

_I forgot how much work this is._

“Rey!”

Rey turns to the sound of a voice coming from the other side of her house. Rey runs around to the front, looking down the hill. A black-haired woman races up, boots sliding on the muddy ground, her bike laying on the ground behind her. Rey slides down to meet halfway.

“Rose!”

The two woman almost collide into each other, a tangle of limbs as the best friends try to keep their balance on the slope. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming home?” Rose asks, pulling back from their hug to look at Rey.

She hesitates. “It was sort of a snap decision. How did you even know I was here, I just got back last night.”

“I was getting my mail, and Unkur was complaining about how the bus woke him up. He looked out the window and saw a girl get off and turn onto this road, and I just knew it was you!” Rose goes back in for another hug, and Rey welcomes it.

They go into the house. Rey walks past the boxes in the living room and Rose doesn’t press. In the kitchen, Rey takes out mugs, heats up water, and drops in the last tea bags from the cupboard. 

“You need to go grocery shopping.” Rose says as she sips her tea. Rey slides into the chair across from her.

“I know.”

“We can ride our bikes to the store together,” Rose gasps “Oh my God, can you make your Banoffee Pie? I’ve missed it so much, and the one at the store just doesn’t taste the same.”

“I haven’t made it in years.”

“I’m sure it’ll be great. I can help.”

Rey sighs. “Alright. If you insist.”

“Yes!” Rose chugs the rest of her tea, setting the mug onto the table before standing up.

“Now?” Rey asks.

“There’s no time like the present.”

Rey finishes her tea and takes both cups to the sink. “I don’t even know if my bike is still here.”

“I’m sure it is.” Rose assures her.

It turns out to be upstairs in the utility closet, stuffed behind the vacuum cleaner and water heater. After Rey and Rose manage to get it out of the house, they make their way into town.

Rey cruises down the road. She relishes in the feel of the chilly air whipping her hair back, the scent of dewy grass from the hills surrounding her. And in the distance, the stony mountain tops peeking through the clouds. 

For the first time since she got home, Rey feels at peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Peasant Bread recipe](https://www.food.com/recipe/peasant-bread-262593)
> 
> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/kitty_kat128)


	2. Banoffee Pie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose and Rey make a pie. They go to the Solo's house. They meet Ben. Insert Dog.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moodboard by lena, find her on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/bensoloswhore). She's such a sweet person and an amazing artist, please commission her if you ever need any artwork for a fic!

When Rey and Rose get back from the grocery store, they don’t get to cooking right away. Rose insists that they have to clean up the house a little and Rey concedes.

They start with dusting the living room. Rey refuses to move any of the boxes from their stacked positions, so the two of them go around using rags from the laundry closet. Despite the cold, they open up all the windows and doors to get air circulation. Donning their coats and gloves, Rose and Rey move through the rest of the main floor, sweeping with the ancient straw broom and dustpan left in the pantry.

“How long do you plan on staying?” Rose asks as she empties out the dust pan into a garbage bag. Rey looks down from her position on a ladder in the dining room, brushing away cobwebs from the fabric-encased curtain rods.

“I don’t know. A while.” 

“Do you wanna see your parents?” Rose’s voice takes on a softer tone.

Rey looks away, suddenly intent on getting rid of a web strand dangling from the ceiling. She goes on her tip-toes and swipes at it. “No. Nothing good will come of it.”

“Well, that’s not why people go to—”

“I don’t want to, Rose.” Rey cuts her off. She makes her way down the ladder, moving on to the next window. 

“Okay, okay.” Rose sighs, taking a long look at Rey before going to the kitchen.

They don’t talk about her parents for the rest of the day. When they finish the main floor, they move upstairs, going through the same routine of dusting and sweeping. Neither of them venture into the master bedroom.

Rose catches Rey up on what all their school friends have been doing. Most of them are working on the commercial farm a little ways out of town. The family that owns it always recruits at the local secondary school for the harvest, but somehow Rose and her friends weaseled their way into permanent jobs. They have an orchard, a greenhouse full of fruits and vegetables, and a nursery. Leia often stops by to check out their flowers. Apparently she and the owners are old friends. 

Poe and Finn finally got together and are happily living out their gay fantasy with the support of their families. Rey smiles at that. She remembers when they would exchange glances across the lunch table, walk down the hallway brushing hands, but not holding. It brought her comfort that they found their peace. 

Kaydel is still pining after Jannah, and Jannah is as oblivious as ever. Rose has tried to get them together multiple times, but neither of them have the guts to make the first move, so they’ve been orbiting around each other for years. Rey has nothing to say. The four of them have been friends since grade school, and she has always known they were destined to be together. It’ll happen eventually, so this nothing of an update makes her a little happy. Maybe she’ll actually be here when they get together. Rose, however, is not as patient.

“I texted them that you’re here, and they’re all super excited. We have to get the gang back together soon!” Rose squeaks. She helps Rey load the washer with dust rags. 

Rey shuts the door and starts the cycle. “Can we hold back on that for a while? I have a full plate right now, and I just don’t have the capacity to handle them.”

“Of course.” Rose places her hand on Rey’s arm. “Just let me know when you’re ready.”

Rey smiles. Although the four girls have always been close, Rose is Rey’s best friend. Maybe it’s the fact they always found themselves being assigned seats next to each other in class, or because they walked similar paths to school, but Rose has always seemed to understand Rey in a way that no one else has. When she moved to London, the hardest goodbye was with Rose, not her parents. She wishes she wasn’t so hasty with that goodbye.

Rey shakes her head, forcing herself to focus on the present moment and finish cleaning. After Rose gives her seal of approval, they move on to baking.

Rose watches as Rey takes out all the materials they’ll need: a pie pan, handheld electric mixer, bowls, and a pan to make the dulce de leche filling. 

“I thought that the “-offee” in “banoffee” stood for toffee, so why are we using dulce de leche?” Rose asks. Rey fills up a Ziplock bag with the graham crackers they bought and hands it over to her, along with a rolling pin. Rose starts crunching them. 

“Dulce de leche is sweeter and creamier. I’ve found it tastes better then standard toffee.” Rey takes out another pie pan and pours the can of condensed milk, placing the milk-filled pan within a large roasting one and sliding it into the oven. She adds hot water to the pie pan and covers it with aluminum foil before setting the appliance to heat up. 

Rose finishes the crust. Rey helps her spread out the crackers onto the other pie pan, smoothing the bits until they cover the bottom and edges evenly. They slide it into the oven along with the milk pan for fifteen minutes to bake. During that time, they slice the bananas and start making the whip cream.

“Okay, so,” Rey takes the bowl filled with the heavy cream, confectioner’s sugar, and vanilla extract and hands it over to Rose. “You take this,” Rey says as she plugs in the electric mixer and puts it into Rose’s outstretched hand. “Move in slow, small circles. You don’t need to make large movements.”

Rose swallows, bringing the mixer into the bowl and pressing the “on” button. The whisks whir and Rose squeaks, shielding her face from the small specks of liquid that jump out from the bowl.

“You got it, don’t be scared.” Rey encourages. “Still haven’t learned to cook while I’ve been gone?”

“No, why would I?” Rose doesn’t look away from her work, eyebrows squinted in concentration. “Poe and Finn keep me well fed.”

“I just thought you would’ve been inspired from working on a farm all day.”

“I feel like it’s done the opposite. Being around all that fresh food makes me want to eat McDonald’s.”

Rey chuckles. “Really?”

“Those bananas are going to be the first fruit I’ve eaten in months.”

“Good thing I came back then. Now I can feed you fruits and vegetables in the form of baked goods.” Rey looks down and sees the cream is now whipped to perfection. She turns the mixer off and takes the bowl out of Rose’s hands, setting it down onto the counter.

“I’ll eat anything you make.” Rose hugs Rey from behind, cupping her chin over Rey’s shoulder. Rey leans her head against hers. They bask in each other’s company until the timer dings signaling them to take out the crust. 

Rey places the crust on a rack to cool. As they wait for the condensed milk to turn into dulce de leche, Rey takes Rose out back to take care of the animals. 

“Who’s been feeding them?” Rose asks. They watch the chickens eat their food and peck at the ground from outside the coop.

“I don’t know. I assume the Solos.”

“That’s so sweet.” Rose gasps. “Oh my God, you have to take the pie to them!”

“I made it for you.”

“I don’t care. I’ll go with you, I haven’t seen them in a while anyway.”

“Rose…”

“You can’t stay cooped up in your house forever, Rey. And besides, you should let them know they don’t have to take care of them anymore.”

Rey sighs, “Yeah, you’re right.”

They move on to the goat pen. The pregnant one is inside now, munching on the food Rey left earlier in the day. 

“What are you gonna do with her?” Rose strokes her back.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know a lot of things,” Rose teases.

“That I do know.” Rey tucks her hair behind her ear nervously. “Um, have you met Ben?”

“Ben?”

“Ben Solo.”

“Oh. Ben.” Rose chuckles. “Fortunately no. Guess that will change tonight.”

“Fortunately?”

“You don’t know why he came back home?”

Rey shakes her head as they walk out of the pen. The sun is setting, casting deep purples and blues across the sky. No city lights to drown out the sunset anymore.

“He was involved in some illegal white-collar stuff. Apparently he was set to go down for the whole thing, but his uncle - who’s, like, a super famous lawyer - swooped in and organized some sort of plea deal. Now he gets to live on his parent’s farm for eternity instead of rotting in prison.”

“Why are you happy you haven’t met him yet?” Rey asks. They go back inside the house, the dulce de leche almost done.

“I know when I meet him I’ll have to pretend I don’t hate his spoiled, rich, privileged guts. And I don’t like pretending.”

Rey knows where Rose is coming from. Neither of their parents would bail them out if they got in trouble, so to hear that her neighbor got the opposite treatment from his parents made her stomach turn. 

Rey turns the timer off right when it digs, sliding on oven mitts to take out the filling to check it. Perfect. Rose grabs the sliced bananas from the fridge and sits on one of the stools along the peninsula, watching Rey spread the dulce de leche onto the pie crust, smoothing it out with a spatula.

“Well I look forward to watching your performance,” Rey says. “Bananas?”

Together, they place the slices in a spiral pattern, being careful to make it as presentable as possible, despite the fact it’ll soon be covered up by whip cream. Rey is a perfectionist that way.

“Okay, do you really have to do that?” Rose watches as Rey delicately dabs globs of cream over the bananas, being extra precise with her placement.

“Yes. A spoiled, rich, privileged, criminal is going to eat my pie, I want him to be thoroughly impressed.”

“Why do you care about his opinion?” 

Rey looks up and sees a gleam in Rose’s eyes. She tries to hold back a smile. “Not for that reason, Rose.”

“Uh huh,” Rose folds her arms in front of her, resting her chin on her elbows. “You never got a boyfriend in London, did you?”

“I’m a strong, independent woman, Rose.” 

“I never said you weren’t. I’m just saying I would understand if you care about what your neighbor thinks of your pie. Or as you put it, your criminal neighbor, ” Rose teases.

Rey attempts to glare at a smiling Rose, but breaks out into giggles instead.

Next is the chocolate shavings. Rose struggles, so Rey shows her how to do it by pulling away from the body, instead of towards it. The brown flakes flutter on top of the cream, giving the finishing touch to the classic British pastry. The two of them admire their work.

“Not too bad, if I do say so myself.” Rose remarks. Rey nods in agreement. “Do you have Tupperware or something to put it in?”

Rey searches the cabinets and comes up with a cake container. It works for the pie. Now that the dish is ready to go, they put on their coats and gloves, tying up their boots before setting off for the Solos’ estate.

Using the flashlight from their phones, the two of them make their way across the fields. It’s shorter than going down the road, but there’s always the threat of tripping over a rock or stepping in a hole. There used to be a well-worn path from when the Niimas and Solos would visit each other, but after two years of no traffic, it has pretty much disappeared. 

Rey remembers of her mother walking in this grass, wearing a white sundress with colorful flowers embroidered along the edges. She remembers how she used to hide behind her mother’s legs when she became shy and trace them with her finger. 

I wonder if that dress is in one of the boxes.

“Was it always this far away?” Rose huffs. Although it’s below freezing, they’ve worked up a sweat underneath their layers as they trek up a gradual hill.

“Yes. I think we’re just out of shape. And old.” Rey adjusts the pie and focuses on her feet, careful not to slip on the mud.

“I’m not out of shape. I do physical labor for nine hours a day, five days a week.”

“And when was the last time you ate a vegetable?”

“Shut up.” Rose says as they come over the top.

The Solo’s mansion stands out from the darkness like a galleon in a midnight sea. It was impossible to see the garden or greenhouse from this angle, but Rey knew what they would look like. Cared and tended for, unlike the patch of dirt that now makes up her mother’s garden. She felt the sudden urge to grow all the food in that dirt, create her own cornucopia out of what was left. But that will have to wait until spring.

As they approach the front door, Rey starts to become nervous. What if they don’t remember her? Or worse, what if they do and spend the whole night pitying her, talking about how sad she must be now and trying to make her feel better? She won’t be able to handle that. 

Rose rings the doorbell. Barking starts off deep inside the house and becomes louder as the dog runs towards them, eager to greet the visitors. Luckily he only has to wait a few seconds before one of his owners opens it.

Chewie attacks Rose first and tries to lick her face. 

“Nice to see you too!” She laughs.

“Poor dog’s been cooped up all day.” Han Solo says matter-of-factly. He looks at the two women. “Rose,—” His voice cuts out at the sight of Rey. She puts on her best smile, hoping it reaches her eyes.

“Hi Han. Long time, no see.”

“Hey kid.” He sounds dazed, like he’s trying to figure out what to say next, eventually settling on, “Leia, come see who it is!”

“Why? Is it Luke?” She yells from what sounds like the kitchen, two rooms over.

“No, better.” Chewie has moved on to Rey now. After she gives him her hand to sniff, he calms down. The Border Collie hasn’t changed one bit since she’s been gone, with the exception of a few gray hairs around his nose and ears. Although it was never officially discussed, the Niimas and Solos shared custody of the dog. He would explore their properties and he could eat and sleep at either of their houses. The Solos must have taken him in after...

“Who?” Leia comes into the foyer wiping her hands on a dish towel, hair in one of her elegant updos, dirty apron over a nice dress. Rey can’t remember a day she saw the woman go casual.

“Hello Leia,” Rey says.

“Oh my God, Rey.” Leia’s eyes widen, arms automatically opening for an embrace. Rey could never say no to her, so she gives her a one-arm hug, careful not to drop the pie. She feels Leia press a kiss into her hair. “How are you, my darling?”

For a moment Rey feels like spilling everything. How she can’t remember the last time she had a peaceful night of sleep or the motivation to leave her flat in over a year. She could describe her newfound hatred of the city, with its tall buildings blocking out the sun and smog-filled streets clogging up her lungs. Maybe even tell her about the waiter that she was sort of seeing, and how she pushed him away after she received news of her parents. She hasn’t been interested in anybody since.

Rey settles on, “I’m okay.” 

“Good. What are you doing here?”

“Rose forced me to make her a banoffee pie and she insisted on sharing it with you.” Rey pulls away, gesturing towards Rose behind her.

“Oh, that’s sweet of you girls.” Leia says, smiling at Rose. 

“Are you sure there’s enough?” Han asks, looking over the pie through the plastic.

“Han!” Leia admonishes, swatting him with the towel.

“What, you know how much Ben likes to eat.” The old man explains as he pets an attention-starved Chewie.

“Well I’m sure he can deal with a smaller portion tonight.”

“We didn’t interrupt your dinner, did we?” Rose asks.

“No, we were just about to start actually. Do you want to join us? It’s grilled chicken with mashed potatoes and roasted vegetables.” Leia offers.

“Yes please!” Rose answers.

“If it’s not an inconvenience.” Rey adds on. 

“Of course not, come in,” Leia steps aside, allowing Rose and Rey to enter. “Shame on Han for making you stand outside in the cold.” Han closes the door behind them.

“Always my fault.” He grumbles, walking to the living room. Rose and Rey share a look of concern.

“Oh don’t mind him, he’s just hungry.” Leia leads the girls through the dining room and into the kitchen. Rey marvels at the teal cabinets and white marble countertops. The farmhouse sink with a touch sensor movable facet draws her attention next, followed by the state-of-the art appliances.

What it would be like to cook in this kitchen.

“You can put the pie in the fridge, Rey.” Leia dictates, going to the oven to check the vegetables. Rey opens the industrial sized refrigerator and slides the pie next to the six-pack of artisan beer and… is that Lord of the Hundreds?

“Wow. When did you do this?” Rey hears Rose ask behind her. She finishes adjusting the pie and shuts the door.

“A few years ago. Since I’ve started taking more photographs for my blog, I wanted them to look professional, and one of my friends told me that a nice looking kitchen goes a long way.” Leia takes out the vegetables, sliding them onto a large serving plate. “Would you girls mind taking the food to the table? It’s already set.”

“Sure.” Rose answers. They take the vegetables and chicken to the dining room, carefully placing them in the center beside the wreath centerpiece. The wood-panels and roaring fireplace gives a cozy, homey feeling that Rey knows is sorely lacking in her house.

Maybe if I unpack those boxes…

“Han, dinner!” Leia yells as she walks in and takes her seat at the head of the table, apron gone. Rey and Rose sit across from each other as Han saunters in and sits on Leia’s left side. The empty chair on the other side of Leia and next to Rose draws Rey’s attention.

“Ben is out in the orchard, he’ll be back soon.” Leia explains, already filling her glass with wine before passing the bottle to Han. “Spends all his time there, it seems.”

“You have an orchard now?” Rey asks, taking the wine from Han and filling her glass before handing it to Rose. 

“Technically we always had one, we just never had the time or resources to take care of it.” Leia says as they pass the food around. “But when Ben came back, he took it up and now we have peach and apple trees. This year will be the first that they bear fruit.” She smiles, clearly proud of her son.

Rey and Rose exchange looks.

“Good for him.” Rey says, trying to sound sincere. Leia either believes her or decides not to press because she goes on to ask Rose about her job. That occupies them both for a while as Han and Rey eat in silence. Although Rey prefers dark meat, the grilled chicken with cherry tomatoes is tasty, and she’s always a sucker for roasted anything. So, it seems, is Han, who devours his serving before touching any other part of his meal. 

“Never would have pegged you as a vegetable man, Han.” Rey says. He smirks.

“You’d be surprised, Rey,” He cuts into his chicken “It’s well known that the way to a Solo man’s heart is through food.” 

“Is that so?” Rey smiles.

Han looks at his wife, the adoration almost sickening. “Leia figured it out pretty quickly.” He chuckles. “Whoever Ben finds will too.”

Just then the back door in the kitchen creaks open, then slams shut, heavy footsteps making their way into the foyer and going up the stairs.

“What, no greeting?” Rose says. Rey glares at her. Rose only shrugs back.

“Usually it’s just us.” Leia explains, a touch of sadness in her voice. “Frankly, you two are the first unannounced visitors we’ve had since he returned.”

Rose and Rey share a glance, guilt creeping in about what they said earlier.

While he’s gone, they finish eating dinner and move onto dessert. Rey cuts the pie and serves it on the fine china Leia insists on using for every meal, passing it around the table. She savors every hum of pleasure and scrape of metal on porcelain as Rose, Han, and Leia eat her food. It’s been so long since she’s cooked for other people. She forgot how satisfying it is. It makes her want to make a full course meal. It would be a challenge in the aging kitchen at her house, but not in this one. 

She’s already imagining her conversation with Leia when the heavy footsteps make their way down the stairs and to the dining room.

“What’s for dinner?” A deep voice asks before the largest man Rey has ever seen steps into the crowded dining room.

The first thing she notices - besides his size - are his bare feet. Seeing someone’s feet feels like a very personal thing to Rey, akin to being shirtless, or pants-less, so the pale skin triggers a blush, which Rey hopes Rose doesn’t notice. 

The second thing is that he doesn’t look very much like a criminal at all. Rey doesn’t really know what she was expecting - maybe someone smaller, with greasy hair and beady eyes - but Ben Solo seems as solid as the wood paneling behind him. A man of the Earth. She can’t imagine him trying to fit into the Tube or cramming himself in the cupboard shower stalls common in most flats. 

So even before he has spoken a word to her, Rey is already nervous about what he’ll think of her pie. His eyes widen at the two strangers seated at the dinner table.

“Ben, this is Rey Niima and Rose Tico,” Leia gestures as she introduces them. Rose gives a small wave, her smile not reaching her eyes. “They made banoffee pie to share with us. Why don’t you have a slice?”

“I haven’t eaten yet, Mother,” Ben deadpans, sliding into the seat at the end of the table, opposite Leia. “Since when do we have guests?”

“Han, go get your son some food,” Leia says and Han obeys, slowly getting up and disappearing into the kitchen. Chewie follows diligently in hope of scraps. Leia turns back to her son. “Well, Rey here is… visiting? Or are you staying?” All eyes turn to her. Rey shifts her weight, occupying herself by collecting the dirty plates in front of Leia and Rose.

“I’m not sure yet. I’ll be here at least through the rest of winter.”

“That’s great, dear,” Leia clasps her hands together. “Ben can teach you how to take care of the animals.”

“What?” Ben and Rey both say at the same time.

“Ben has been the one taking care of your mother’s goats and chickens. He didn’t have the time to tend to her garden though, but maybe that will change now that you’re here.” Rey barely registers Leia, too busy studying Ben’s face. She can’t believe that the criminal was the one that was taking care of her animals. He was probably forced to do it though, some sort of additional punishment.

“I don’t have time to teach people, it’s pruning season.” Ben complains as Han sets a plate of food in front of him. Ben barely acknowledges his father before digging in.

Rey is not prepared for this.

Although she loves food, it has never done anything for her sexually. Even ASMR mukbangs make her nauseous.

But watching Ben cut chicken with utensils that look like they were made for children, and scarf down vegetables with a fury usually reserved for contestants on reality shows, Rey feels a line of fire flash down her spine and settle in her core. At first she doesn’t recognize it, having been missing in action for over a year. With a start she realizes it’s due to the criminal eating. Eating.

Rey quickly hurries into the kitchen. She dumps the dishes into the sink and figures out how to work the faucet, splashing cold water onto her face to calm herself down. 

I’m just out of practice. It has nothing to do with him, Rey thinks as she tries to rationalize her reaction. Maybe I just have a thing for people that appreciate food. Yeah, that’s what it is. I have a thing for people that like food. It’s not that big of a deal.

“Rey!” Leia calls, “Ben’s gonna taste your pie!”

Rey daps her face with a dish towel before casually reentering the dining room. Ben already has a slice in front of him, but he’s focused on draining his wine glass, gulping the liquid down as if he was a desert wander come onto an oasis. Rey tries not to stare at his Adam’s apple as it bops up and down. 

When he finishes he takes a breath and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. He takes a look at the pie, then up at Rey.

“You made this?”

“Yeah. It’s my recipe too, not from some website.” Rey forces out, hoping there’s no shake in her voice.

Without another word, Ben stabs his fork in and takes out a huge bite, making sure to collect all the cream from off the metal.

Rey holds in her breath, ignoring Rose as she burns a hole into the side of her head.

“It’s good.”

She waits for more, but he doesn’t give, simply taking another bite and chewing without incidence. 

“Just good?” Rey clarifies, something in her disappointed.

“Mmhm.” He hums, too busy swallowing to speak.

“Oh. Okay.” Rey watches as he finishes his slice, checking to see if he licks up the cream left over on the plate with his finger. He does. 

Rey smiles.

…

“I’ve never seen you that nervous before,” Rose teases as the two of them make their way back to Rey’s house. “Your face was so red.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Rey denies, swinging the empty cake container around.

“Whatever you say,” Rose sighs. After a moment, “But just for the record, I think he was into you, too.”

“What makes you think that?” Rey chortles. Rose side-eyes her, easily seeing through her facade.

“Are you kidding? He wouldn’t take his eyes off you.”

“He probably just hates me because he had to take care of my animals.” Rey hears herself say, her heartbeat stuttering at Rose’s theory.

“I don’t think so. Leia told me that she saw him sneaking a slice of your pie to his room while we were playing with Chewie.”

“Really?” Rey remembers how they showered the dog with kisses and scratches in the kitchen. She vaguely recalls a large form walking past her towards the stairs, but she was so focused on Chewie that she didn’t bother looking up. Now she regrets not paying more attention. 

“Yeah. I guess he really liked it.” Rose says, causing Rey to think about what Han told her earlier.

The flush doesn’t leave her face until they get back to the house and Rey watches Rose bike down the road until she disappears into the darkness. She has work tomorrow and won’t be able to hang out as much anymore. Rey understands, but a small part of her is scared to be in this house, all alone, for so long.

She gets ready for bed slowly, trying to suppress the childhood memories that threaten to overtake her, drawn out from their usual hiding place by the familiar faces and house of the Solos. As she slides underneath the covers, Rey forces herself to focus on the one person that doesn’t remind her of anyone or anything. It’s a lot easier than she thought it would be.

She falls asleep thinking about his plush lips licking her cream off his calloused fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Banoffee Pie recipe](https://sallysbakingaddiction.com/banoffee-pie/)
> 
> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/kitty_kat128)


	3. Linzer Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey takes care of her animals. Ben helps. She returns the favor. Some baking. Insert dog.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [kayla](https://twitter.com/kayla_248) is the grammar goddess, check out her stories.

The rooster wakes Rey up for the second day in a row at the crack of dawn.

I guess I don’t need my phone alarm anymore, Rey thinks as she pulls back the covers and gets ready for the long day ahead of her.

After getting dressed, Rey puts earbuds in and pulls her hood up before heading outside to take care of her animals for the first time since she was eighteen. 

The chickens are easy. She took care of them before she moved to London, and it comes back like no time has passed at all. She takes the basket on the hook outside the coop and collects the eggs, quickly dropping them off in the kitchen. For a moment, she’s ten years old again, bringing the eggs in for her mother to make breakfast with. Wearing her light-blue apron decorated with bunnies, she would already have ingredients set out on the table, a small smile on her face as she let Rey guess what new creation she was making that day.

It’s a scene that’s played out hundreds of times, and yet this is the first time that no one is waiting to make something with her. Rey rushes out before the tears can fully form.

She opens up a new bag of feed in the shed, desperate to distract herself, but she misjudges the bag’s weight and struggles to carry it to the coop. Just as she’s about to drop it, a figure jumps in front of her and a pair of muscular arms suddenly support it from the bottom. 

Ben stands in front of her now.

Rey jumps, spooked. He’s dressed in a dirty sweatshirt and work pants, hair disheveled like he just got out of bed. He says something, but she can’t hear him over her music. She goes to take an earbud out, causing both of them to lose their grip on the bag, but Ben readjusts and takes the bag out of Rey’s arms completely.

“What?” Rey asks. 

“It’s not safe to work with earbuds in,” he says, “won’t know if an animal escapes.”

“I’ve been doing this since I was a kid. I think I know what I’m doing,” she snaps back defensively.

“I can tell that you’re out of practice. Especially since you made the unwise decision to open the bag all the way in the shed, instead of by the feeder,” Ben holds up the bag to make his point clearer before heading off to the coop. 

Rey huffs, following him begrudgingly.

She watches as he fills the feeder, the way that his biceps flex as he holds the bag up above the metal, his rough hands - she really can’t get over his hands - rolling up the bag and folding it so it won’t spill out as he carries it back to the shed. He carries it so easily, as if it weighed grams instead of kilograms.

_He could definitely deadlift me._

When it comes to the goats, Rey doesn’t say anything, content with watching Ben. He doesn’t speak or try to teach her anything, just carries on with his duties as if she wasn’t there.

As he shovels out their stalls, Rey breaks out of her stupor, gaining the sense to grab a pitchfork and help replace them with fresh hay. Ben doesn’t say anything, just glances at her before getting back to work. 

They continue in this amicable silence until Ben gets to the pen of the pregnant goat. Rey doesn’t know what she was expecting him to do, but it definitely wasn’t to bend down and give the softest of strokes to her belly.

“Do you know how far along she is?” she asks as she walks over.

“She’s due in the spring,” he answers without looking up at her. The goat bleats softly, seemingly enjoying his touch. 

“They like you.”

Ben hums in agreement. 

I was right, Rey thinks. A man of the Earth.

After they finish the goats, Ben stuffs his hands in his pockets. 

“Bye,” he says, starting to head back to his house.

“Wait!” Rey calls out. He turns back quickly, like he was eager to be held up a little while longer. Or at least that’s what Rey would like to imagine. She points to the abandoned garden. “What about the garden?”

He follows her finger, looking over the dirt patch. “What garden?”

“My mother grew vegetables here. I want to start doing that again.” She goes to stand at the edge, where the rotting wooden frame falls apart. Ben joins her.

“Well, we need seeds. And irrigation equipment. Should probably replace this box too.” Ben lightly kicks it with his boot. 

“Where do we get those?”

“There’s a hardware store a few towns over that I like. You can check it out when you have the time.”

“I don’t have a car.”

“Oh.” He looks at the ground, the house, the sky, her shoes, anywhere but her eyes when he talks to her. “Then I can take you some time, if you like.”

“Okay.”

They stand there in silence for a moment, before Ben goes to leave again. 

“Do you want breakfast?” Why can’t I keep my mouth shut? Ben turns around, a confused look on his face. “I haven’t eaten yet, so…” Rey trails off.

“I have to prune,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Oh,” she shifts her weight,“can I join you?”

“You want to help me?” Ben asks.

“It’s only fair.” Rey lies to herself. She knows she doesn’t have to go, that he probably doesn’t even want her there. But something overrode her better judgment and asked the question anyway.

“Okay,” Ben says after a moment. Without another word he turns to head back, Rey jogging to catch up with his long strides. 

Fog still covers the moors, clinging to the hillsides and dropping dew on blades of grass. It drenches her socks and shins, causing her to shiver and dig her hands deeper into her pockets. She watches Ben in front of her. His hood is also up, shoulders hunched, like he’s trying to make himself smaller. It has the opposite effect though, only bringing that much more attention to his large frame.

“Thank you, by the way,” Rey says. Ben looks back, “for taking care of the animals.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Did your parents make you do it?” She teases, but a deeper question hides underneath. Was I your punishment?

“No. I volunteered.”

“That makes me feel better, I think.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to be a burden,” Rey says without thinking. 

He chuckles.“That makes two of us.” 

They continue in a comfortable silence until they arrive at the Solo’s house. This time however, Rey goes around, following Ben to the backyard. 

It’s exactly as she remembers it. 

A door from the kitchen leads to the wide lawn that she played in as a kid with Chewie, surrounded by a garden full of flowers and trees (now empty due to the season), cultivated exactly to Leia’s taste. A gravel path from the left side of the lawn leads to the greenhouse where she used to help Leia take care of her plants, and from the right side is a large worn shed that Ben unlocks. As he riffles around for whatever he needs, Rey studies him, trying to distract herself from the memories forcing their way inside her head. She traces the lines of his frame, starting from his hand to his shoulders, down his back to his ass, to his thigh and his foot clad in mud-covered farm boots. 

Ben turns around, offering Rey a pair of work gloves and a small pruner. “Have you pruned before?”

“Yes,” Rey takes the gloves and tool, “I’m not a total noob.”

“Uh huh. Grab that trash bin, will you?” Ben says as he pulls on his own gloves and swings the larger pruner over his shoulder. Rey walks over to the empty can by the door, pulling it along with her. While her back is turned, Ben picks up a medium-sized step ladder and marches away, towards the gate in the back of the enclosed backyard that leads to the orchard. She scurries after him. 

_They look like skinny aliens, draped in the fog_ , Rey thinks. The trees’ long, leafless branches reach up towards the sky and she can’t help but feel the urge to climb them, the young country girl in her coming out from hibernation.

Rey is snapped out of her daydreams when Ben leans the ladder against one of the trunks.

“Okay, so I’ll go first, cutting the big branches, and then you can go in and get the small ones, closer to the trunk,” Ben instructs, “Alright?”

“Yep.”

Ben climbs up and gets to work clipping away branches. As they fall to the ground, Rey puts them into the trash bin to be disposed of later. Like when he was with her goats, he doesn’t talk and Rey doesn’t push. She likes how quiet he is. She loves Rose, but there’s something about working together in silence that is calming, cleansing even. After being by herself for so long, it is a luxury to be with someone but in her own head at the same time.

When he finishes, he makes his way down, gesturing for Rey to step up. He steadies the ladder as she climbs up.

“We should’ve grabbed a second ladder so we can work at the same time,” Rey says, leaning over to cut a small branch. She looks down to see Ben cutting some of the larger branches into smaller pieces.

“It’s safer if we take turns,” he says. “Even if you have done this before.”

Rey rolls her eyes, but suppresses a smile at the same time, touched by this small act of care.

When she’s done, she climbs down and deposits her twigs into the bin. He picks up the ladder, she drags the bin, and they move onto the next tree.

They continue in this pattern for hours, eventually pruning the entire orchard. The sun is on its way back down by the time they finish the last tree. Ben takes the now full trash bin and Rey carries the ladder under her arm back to the shed. As she’s taking her gloves off, the kitchen door opens and Chewie runs out, practically jumping into her arms. 

“Hey Chewie, long time no see,” Rey says sarcastically, scratching his ears. The dog barks, excited to see her.

“I saw you from the window, out in the orchard with Ben,” a voice explains. Rey looks up to see Leia dressed in a button-down and flowy pants, a wrap around her shoulders, her hair in an elaborate braid pinned to her head,“Did he ask you to help?”

“No, I volunteered,” Rey says. Ben comes out from the shed, a bundle of sticks in his arms. Chewie runs to him, begging for his attention.

“Hi dog,” he grunts out as he closes the door with his hip, “can you hold these?” Ben asks, holding out the branches. Rey takes them, pretending they’re not as heavy as they are as he locks the doors. “Thanks,” he says, taking them back when he’s done.

“What are those for anyway?” Rey asks.

“Kindling for fire,” Ben answers. “Someone insists on always having a fire on in the winter.”

“It provides atmosphere, Benjamin,” Leia says, seemingly the someone that Ben was referring to. “Something you’ll learn to treasure as you grow older.”

“Sure,” he huffs, adjusting the bundle before walking past the two women into the house. Rey shifts her weight, assuming that was her signal to leave.

“I should go-”

“Did Ben tell you about the gifts I have for you?” Leia says at the same time. Rey cocks her head.

“Gifts?” Rey asks.

Leia shakes her head. “That boy is going to be the death of me,” she sighs before turning towards the house, gesturing for Rey to follow her. “C’mon in.”

Rey does so, wiping her muddied shoes onto the doormat reading Love grows here, with bouquets of flowers surrounding the words. 

_That’s something Mom would have had._

Inside the warm kitchen, Rey takes her hood off, hearing another football game from the living room. “Who’s playing”?

“Tottenham and Leeds,” Leia says as she opens the fridge. “Not Han’s team, but he must watch every single game.”

“Does Ben watch?” Rey asks, not that she cares.

“No, he was never one for team sports,” Leia takes out a cute, wire basket with four hand-packaged jars of preserves.

Rey gasps, “Your jams and jellies,” Rey walks over and reaches out to pick up one of the jars, getting a better look at it. One of Leia’s friends makes them as a hobby and sends them to her a couple times a year. The Niimas were always given the extra. She hasn’t had them in so long.

“It’s been awhile, huh dear?” Leia says. Rey picks each one up, inspecting. They look delicious. 

“Yeah, thank you.” Rey can’t look her in the eye, instead settling for the marble countertop.

“Of course, Rey,” Leia says as she takes her hand. “We’re here for you. Anything you need.” Rey nods, too choked up to speak.

_Why the fuck am I crying? Get a grip, Rey._

The moment is broken by Ben stomping into the room, heading towards the fridge. Rey yanks her hand out from Leia’a, sliding the basket over to her side.“I should get going now.” Rey says, watching as Ben takes out a Gatorade and proceeds to chug it down.

“Have you eaten yet today?” Leia asks. “I was just about to whip something up for an early dinner. You’re welcome to stay.”

Rey hesitates. Out of the corner of her eye she can feel Ben watching her, but she’s too scared to look over and see what kind of expression he has. He probably wants her out of his house already - he didn’t sign up to spend the whole day with her - but her stomach has other ideas.

“Only if I can repay the favor with some Linzer cookies I make with these,” Rey insists as she picks up the basket and gestures to the jams. 

“That sounds lovely, my dear,” Leia says as she takes out a large pot from one of the many cupboards. “Here, why don’t you start with the dough while I make the stew,” Leia shuffles around, taking out bowls and the electric whisk. “Do you want to help, Ben?”

“No thanks. Wouldn’t want to ruin either of your precious creations,” he says before walking out of the room and up the stairs. Rey tells herself that she is not insulted by his constant running away from her. 

Leia sighs, “He’s so hard on himself, just like his father.”

Rey goes to the fridge and takes out what she needs to prepare the dough, “Or maybe he just wanted to get out of it,” she says with the smallest hint of venom in her voice.

Leia chuckles, “Or that. Also something Han is known to do.”

They continue with the light banter as they make their food. Rey knows the recipe by heart, having made them with her mother many times. After mixing the dry ingredients in one bowl and the wet in another, she mixes them into the large whisking bowl. When they’re all combined together, she separates the mixture in half and pats both into a disc before wrapping them in plastic and putting them into the refrigerator.

Rey washes the dishes she used and puts them away before asking Leia if she needs any help.

“I’m all right,” she says, “but if you could be a dear and set the table, that would be wonderful.”

Rey nods, going into the dining room and taking out the bowls and silverware from the sideboard. This feels remarkably different from the dinner last night. Less like she’s a guest, and more like she’s a part of the family. Again, she thinks about how much she missed being around other people, but this time there’s an ache in her heart as she remembers that she will never be able to see the two people she really wants to be around. 

“Dinner!” Leia yells from the other room, “Rey, can you bring the bowls here, please?”

Rey does so, entering the kitchen right when Han waddles in from the living room. She hands them to Leia, who serves a spoonful of stew to her husband. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he says, kissing her cheek. Rey averts her eyes feeling like she shouldn’t watch— like the show of affection is too intimate for an audience. He moves into the dining room, the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the stairs causing her to turn around.

Ben walks in, now in sweatpants and a raggedy T-shirt. He takes the bowl his mom made for him and starts back the way he came.

“You’re not gonna eat with us?” Rey asks. You won’t get away that easy. He pauses for a second, turning his head towards her a little.

“Do you want me to?”

“Only if you want to,” she says softly. The anger she developed as she kneaded the dough melted away at his question, leaving her vulnerable and wanting for his answer.

He doesn’t respond, instead continuing on his way into the foyer and back up the stairs.

“Don’t take it personally,” Leia says behind her when he’s out of earshot. Rey turns around and takes the bowl of stew she holds out to her. “He likes his alone time.”

“I understand,” Rey says, and she does, but a small part of her can’t help but feel foolish. He can be so kind - offering to help rebuild her mother’s garden, watching over her as she pruned - that with any other guy she would have assumed he was interested in her. As she’s learned today however, Ben is not that guy. She can tell by the way that he doesn’t look at her while talking sometimes, and how he retreats to his room at every opportunity. As Rey sits at the table to eat, she can’t help but wonder what about his room is so much more interesting than her.

After they finish dinner, Leia helps her make the cookies. Han supervises along with Chewie, sitting on one of the stools along the island and offering advice that Leia ignores and Rey laughs off. The dog lays down with his head on his paws, patiently waiting for scraps that will never come.

When they are all baked, Rey opens the strawberry jam and smooths a layer onto the bottom cookies as Leia places the top one on. 

“These look delicious, Rey,” Leia says when they finish, “You definitely inherited your mother’s baking gene.”

“Thank you.” Rey blushes. She dusts powdered sugar over all of them before she’s satisfied, transferring them from the pan into the plate that Leia put out. “You can keep all of them if you like.”

“We’re still working through your banoffee pie,” Han says. “Take half with you, please.”

“Yes, Rey. You need a little more meat on your bones,” Leia mothers, already packing half into a Tupperware that Rey didn’t see her take out. 

“If you insist.”

It’s dark by the time she’s ready to go home. Leia, Han, and Chewie escort her to the door, stopping in front of it.

“Thank you,” Leia whispers under breath. Her eyes are soft, and Rey knows that whatever she’s talking about is something that is very difficult for her.

“What for?” Rey matches her quiet voice.

“You’re the first person that Ben has spent time with since he returned home.”

“Really?” Rey looks to Han and sees the same warm expression on his face.

“Yes. What did you two talk about?” She asks eagerly.

“Um, we didn’t really talk much to be honest,” Rey bites her lip, “but he did say he would help me restart my mother’s garden.”

“That’s great,” Leia turns to Han and they share a look, one of a mother and father finally feeling like their son is coming back to life.

“Yeah, it’s really nice of him,” Rey adds.

“Ben! Come down and say goodbye to Rey,” Leia calls out. A door opens somewhere and Ben walks down the stairs, stopping halfway down to lean against the banister.

“Bye Ben. Thank you so much for taking care of my animals. You don’t have to do that anymore, obviously.” At this angle it’s impossible to ignore his bare feet.

“It was no problem. Thanks for helping me with the pruning” he says, crossing his arms.

“Mmhm,” Rey hums, opening the door. “See ya around.”

“See ya,” he says, turning to make his way back up the stairs. Rey smiles at Han and Leia before stepping outside into the cold night air and closing the door behind her. 

And just like that, she’s forgotten all about the hurt he caused, warmed by the encouraging words of Han and Leia, and the electrifying feeling of his amber eyes looking into hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Linzer Cookies recipe](https://www.kingarthurbaking.com/recipes/linzer-cookies-recipe)
> 
> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/kitty_kat128)


	4. Treacle Tart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey feels sad about her parents. Ben take her shopping. She bakes. 
> 
> No dog in this chapter, sorry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [kayla](https://twitter.com/kayla_248) deserves everything good in this world for being my beta :)

Rey’s days fall into an easy routine. She wakes with the sun and takes care of her animals, sans earbuds. Copying what Ben did the last time he came, she makes sure to open a new bag of feed next to the feeder and gives an extra pat to the pregnant goat she has decided to name Penelope, after her mother’s favorite flower. Afterwards, she cooks a hearty breakfast, usually consisting of the eggs she had collected earlier and some of the jams that Leia gifted her.

She eats at the kitchen table and reads the morning paper, just like her father.

In the afternoon, Rey goes on walks, reacquainting herself with the trails and town she used to know like the back of her hand. So much has changed — her secret footpaths were now overgrown with ivy and the photography studio where she had her secondary graduation photos taken had closed down — but there is still much that has stayed the same. The coffee shop where she and Rose used to stop on their way to secondary was still there next to the post office and her favorite meadow gave her the same sense of peace as when she was a child. For those few hours when she was out of the house and in the cold winter air she could pretend that everything was normal.

But the sun eventually begins its descent and she has to head back to an empty house with no lights on or a hot meal waiting for her. The quiet gets to her quickly, so she fetches her laptop and turns on some music to bring with her in whatever room she is. She makes dinner, usually something simple yet filling so she can use the least amount of food possible. She hates grocery shopping - all the choices overwhelm her and she always buys too much - so she tries to make the food she has last. She eats and watches an episode of a television show on her laptop, making sure she savors every bite before washing the dishes and putting them away.

Then Rey gets to work on the job that she has been procrastinating from when she first woke up in the morning. She picks out a box of her parent’s belongings and goes through it, dividing them into trash bags of what she’s going to keep and what she’s going to throw out. 

The first night she opens the box labelled “Books''. She figures that will be the easiest, seeing that they were displayed in the living room and didn’t belong to her parents in particular, but more to the whole family. But when she first cut through the tape and smelled the familiar aged paper, she burst into tears. It is times like this when the ache in her chest erupts into a searing pain, even worse than when she first heard the news that her parents were gone.

It was the week before Christmas. It was Rey’s favorite time of year in London, when the shops had all their decorations up and snow seemed to soften the sharp edges of buildings and people. She was able to get off work early and took the extra time to buy holiday gifts for her coworkers and friends back home. First, she went to the used bookstore, chatting with the elderly man who owns the place for a little bit before heading to Sephora and splurging on some products for herself and her mother. She knew there was no point in shopping for her father who throws a temper tantrum whenever anyone buys him a gift worth more than thirty pounds, so she planned on making his favorite dessert - pumpkin spice cinnamon rolls - and sending them. After she finished her shopping, she picked up some Chinese food for dinner and made her way back to her flat.

She had just taken the first bite of her stir fry when her phone rang. She didn’t recognize the number, but she saw it was coming from her hometown. Assuming that it was spam, she declined the call and went back to eating. She saw that they left a voicemail and out of curiosity she went to look at the transcript. She only read the first few words before she immediately called them back. Her hands started to shake.

“Is this Rey Niima?”, the officer asked in a shaky voice.

“Yes,” Rey replied, “what happened?”

“Your parents, Jodie and Billy Niima, were in an automobile accident tonight. It’s snowing, and they took a turn wrong and there was another car oncoming… I’m sorry, Miss…”

The officer kept on speaking, but Rey couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in her ears. She slid out of her chair onto the floor, and fell to her side, bringing her knees to her chest. She remembers answering questions with simple “yes”s and “no”s, but when they asked when they should expect her to make the arrangements, Rey froze. The idea of returning to the place she associated with warmth and love and happiness, and not feel the any of those emotions, but their opposites, caused her brain to short-circuit. She spits out something about a solicitor that her parents once worked with when they were restructuring debt before hanging up. 

Thankfully the solicitor was sympathetic enough to her plight that he did everything pro bono. He made sure they were buried in the cemetery of the lone church in town, side by side. Rey didn’t go to the burial, but Rose assured her that it was a lovely ceremony, attended by mostly everybody in town. The solicitor also packed up the belongings in their house and catalogued everything just in case, but Rey was quick to purchase everything that wasn’t allotted to her in their wills, spending almost all her savings. Everyday, Rey felt the pull to go back, but her fear of the grief that would overtake her when she returned kept her from buying a ticket, and eventually that pull numbed into a dull tug on her heart every time she saw something that reminded her of home. 

Once she ran out of sick days, Rey fell back into her routine. It was easy, she could do it sleepwalking, and most times she practically was, having not gotten any sleep the night before. Her waitressing began to suffer for it, but she knew that her boss felt bad so he kept her on until he felt like an appropriate period had passed and he quietly let her go. Rey didn’t fight it. Instead she handed over her apron and walked back to her flat in the rain. She bought a train ticket home the second she stepped inside.

Now she stands above the objects of her childhood and she can’t stop fucking crying. She moves other boxes off so she can sit on the couch, but eventually her seated position turns into laying down, and before she knows it, the rooster is waking her up. Her eyelids stick together from the tears she cried in her sleep, and she has to wash her face thoroughly to feel clean before she can start on her chores.

She tries again that night, this time she is able to go through the books and consider each one. They’re all keepers though, as Rey expected. The pain didn’t fade, but it was more bearable. _Or maybe I’ve grown stronger_ , she thinks. She finishes the box at three in the morning and sleeps on the sofa again, too tired to go upstairs.

After that first box, it becomes easier, little by little. The tears never stop though. She falls asleep with her nose stuck in her mother’s clothing, trying to absorb the last of her scent. She cuts up her fingers handling her father’s fishing gear. The trash bags fill up and start to take up more space then the boxes, and through this process, Rey finally acknowledges what she has felt for far too long:

_I’m sorry for not coming back sooner._

…

The sound of a car revving up a hill wakes Rey from her spot on the living room floor, where she was curled up with one of her mother’s aprons. She wipes the drool from her face and looks out the window to see where the noise came from.

Her heart skips a beat when she sees Ben close the door of an old pick-up truck, as he sticks his hands in his pockets and walks towards the door. She hasn’t seen him in a few weeks, too busy to stop by his house and he hasn’t come over. After their last interaction, she assumed that he didn’t want anything to do with her, but here he is, knocking at her door early on a Monday morning.

“Shit!” Rey knows she doesn’t have time to do anything more than finger comb her hair and straighten her pajamas before opening the door.

“Ben,” Rey says. He looks nervous, shifting his weight from foot to foot and adjusting the baseball cap he’s wearing, “What are you doing here?”

“You wanted to regrow your mother’s garden, right?”

“Yes…” Rey draws out, wondering where this is going.

“Well, I have to go to the hardware store, and I was wondering if you would like to come with me to get supplies. And you don’t have a car, so…” Ben rambles.

“Oh,” Rey states. “I thought you forgot about that.”

“I could never forget about-.” Ben cuts himself off, “…that.” Rey blinks at him. “So do you wanna come or not?”

“Yeah, just give me a minute,” Rey opens her door wider. “Come on in.”

Ben steps inside, standing between the foyer and the living room as Rey rushes upstairs to get ready. She grabs the first clothes she sees and brushes her teeth before coming back down to put on her boots and coat. She looks up and notices Ben looking over the boxes and trash bags.

“I’m ready,” She says a little too loudly as she pulls on her beanie. He looks at her with red cheeks and ears, like he was caught doing something he shouldn’t have been.

“Let’s go, then.” Ben opens the door and hurries out, leaving Rey to follow after him — something she is getting used to doing.

Ben doesn’t listen to music when he drives. He doesn’t listen to anything, Rey discovers. It’s eerily quiet as they make their way down the two-way country road to the town about an hour away. For the first fifteen minutes she sits with her hands tucked in between her legs, waiting for Ben to turn the radio on. After a half hour, she realizes he’s never going to. He focuses on the road — keeping his hands locked on the steering wheel.

“Are you going to put on music?” she blurts out.

“Oh,” he says, “I wasn’t planning on it.”

“You don’t listen to anything when you drive?” Rey asks incredulously. 

He shakes his head, “I like the quiet. Gives me time to think.”

“Well, I don’t like silence. Can I put something on?” Rey whines.

“Sure.”

As Rey fiddles with the radio, eventually finding a classical music station - a compromise she figures - Ben asks, “Why don’t you like the quiet?” 

Rey is taken aback. _Is this the first time he’s asked me a question about myself?_

“For the same reason you like it,” she answers, “forces me to think.”

Ben nods, but doesn’t say more — something she is grateful for.

Rey looks out the window and watches the countryside fly by them. She wasn’t able to see it when she came back at night and she hasn’t left her valley since she returned, so she soaks in the hills covered in white and the winter sunlight reflecting off the impossibly large lakes. She tries to imagine what this landscape would look like tens of thousands of years ago, when glaciers stood where the lakes are now, carving out their paths through the mountains and leaving valleys in their wake. It is equally beautiful and terrifying, but if it wasn’t for the ice’s clawing at the earth, she wouldn’t be in this truck with Ben now, and when looked at from that perspective, it all seems worth it.

She turns and studies him, trying to not be obvious about it. There’s a section of his hair that peeks out from under his cap that curls in a different direction from the rest. _I want to touch it_ , she thinks, taking in the windbreaker he wears over a simple long-sleeve and jeans.

“Aren’t you cold?” Rey asks, suddenly aware of the three layers she’s wearing at the moment. 

“No. I’m a human furnace.” He glances at her, a look of concern in his eyes. “Are you?” he starts fiddling with the temperature controls, “I always forget not everyone runs the same as me.”

“A little,” Rey admits. Ben turns the heat on high and blasts it, angling the fans on his side to face Rey.

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to remember for next time.”

She bites her lip to hold back her smile at his thoughtfulness, but also - _next time?_

They arrive at the hardware store in the middle of Tchaikovsky’s _Pas de deux_ from _The Nutcracker_. Rey normally wasn’t one for ballets, but this piece had her transfixed. It was romantic and haunting and absolutely world-shattering. It didn’t seem to have the same effect on Ben though. After he parks in the small parking lot, he goes to turn the car off, but Rey puts a hand out.

“Wait!” she yells. Ben arches his eyebrow in question. “I wanna hear the rest of the song.”

Ben sits back and looks out the window, letting her listen. As the music crescendos, Rey feels like she’s transported to a higher state of being. It’s the most emotional reaction she’s had to… anything since her parents. She holds onto the feeling as hard as she can, letting it wash over her in waves even when she can feel the tears sliding down her cheeks. When the strings bow out and the drums bring the song to a close, she covers her face with her hands, taking a deep breath.

“Y-you okay?”

Rey peeks through her fingers and sees Ben, a hand outstretched towards her as if to comfort her, but he’s unsure what to do. She realizes what this must look like to him, a girl having a mental breakdown over a song that’s over two hundred years old. She sniffles, quickly wiping her tears away.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Let’s go.” Rey opens the door and jumps out before he can question her further.

Inside the store, Rey is overcome with nostalgia, remembering the countless trips she took with her parents to stores just like these. The smell of fertilizer and rubber is enough to make her eyes water all over again. But then Ben is there, pushing the cart up besides her and handing her a list. She looks it over, admiring his neat handwriting.

“Watering can?” Rey reads out.

“This way.” Ben heads to the left side of the store. Rey huffs after him.

They get into a rhythm: Rey reads off an item, Ben sprints to the aisle where the item is located with Rey speed-walking behind him, he puts it in the cart, then asks for the next thing. It’s exhausting and allows no time for conversation. Rey is starting to get annoyed by that now.

“We’re done,” she sighs, sticking the list into her pocket. “Now we get what I need for my garden.”

Ben looks down at their full cart. A sprinkler system, seedlings, lumber, spades…

Rey’s eyes widen. “These are all for me?” Ben nods, avoiding her gaze. She crosses her arms.“You didn’t need anything here, did you.”

“If we’re doing this together, then I need these things too,” he says.

“Oh. Well, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Rey doesn’t offer to pay, and she’s grateful to Ben for not asking her to. After being fired from her job, she’s pretty much broke. The only thing keeping her floating at this point is her parents’ inheritance. It would be too embarrassing to ask Ben, though.

After loading the goods in the truck bed, Rey goes to the passenger side, but stops with her hand on the door.

“What?” Ben asks.

“Can we stop there?” Rey points to the bakery across the street, the modern white and blue building contrasting with the industrial district surrounding it. 

“I guess.” Ben walks over to her side, and together they make their way over.

It’s just as cute on the interior as it is outside. The black and white checkered floor gives the place a classic feel while the display cases and delicacies inside them are distinctly modern. 

“Have you been here before?” Rey asks, hurrying over to press her face against the glass. She swears she hears Ben chuckles under his breath.

“Many times. My father would take me here after we went to the store.” 

“What’s your favorite?” Rey tears away from the sweets to look at him. 

He points to a small golden-brown pie-looking dessert. “The treacle tart. I could eat only this for the rest of my life and be happy.”

Rey wrinkles her nose. “You mean that tiny, pathetic excuse of a treacle tart?”

Ben raises his eyebrows, hurt. “What do you mean tiny and pathetic?”

“That’s only two forkfuls of dessert, and I bet they use concentrate. I can make a tart a million times better than that one.” She looks up to Ben, a sparkle in his eye. She knows what he’s thinking. 

She smirks, accepting his challenge.

…

“You can put ‘em right there,” Rey instructs, setting the eggs onto the counter. Ben carries the rest of the bags, roughly putting them down after struggling from the car and through the house. He insisted, and Rey didn’t fight him. She liked it — being taken care of in that way.

“You need help?” Ben asks, washing his hands in the kitchen sink as Rey unpacks the bags.

“No, you’re not allowed to help.”

“Why not?” He actually sounds disappointed.

“Because I said I can make a better one, not we can,” Rey teases. She turns to see his reaction, and he’s smiling. It’s small, there’s no teeth, and his lips just barely turn up at the corners, but it’s a smile nonetheless. 

_He has dimples._

“What am I supposed to do then?” he asks, drying his hands on a dish towel. Rey walks around the counter and pulls out a stool.

“Supervise.” She runs into the living room and comes back with her father’s hand held radio. “And find that music station again.” She hands it over and he takes it with him to his seat.

“Yes, ma’am.” Ben starts fiddling with the dials. Rey watches him for a second to see that he’s settled, then moves onto making the tart. 

As always, the dough comes first. Rey quickly ties her hair up and gets to work, adding the necessary things into the food processor and mixing until the blend is the proper consistency. She preheats the oven before forming the dough into a ball then flattens it into a disk, wrapping it in plastic to sit in the refrigerator for half an hour. While she had the processor running, Ben found the music station, but she couldn’t hear it over the noise. Now she can recognize the notes of a piano and strings of a cello. After setting a timer on her phone, she turns to Ben, determined to pull a conversation out of him while she waits.

Rey loses all train of thought when she sees the look in his eye. He averts his eyes and starts fiddling with his hands, but she knows what she saw. It was the same look that her father had when he watched her mother in the kitchen. She could never put a name to it, but she recognized it as one of utter devotion. And Ben was just looking at her the same way.

Rey hopes her blushing isn’t too noticeable, so she pretends that she never saw anything. “Do you like classical at least?” she asks, walking over to stand across the counter from him.

“Yes. I used to play the piano, actually,” he says, eyes still on his hands.

“Really?” He nods. “That’s so cool. I could never play any instruments; I don’t have the patience for it.”

He looks up at Rey, “My therapist recommended to my mom that I play an instrument to redirect my destructive tendencies.”

Rey wasn’t expecting an answer like that. “Oh.”

After a moment of awkward silence, Ben sighs, rubbing his hands over his eyes. “Sorry, I always fucking do that.”

“Do what?”

“Kill the mood.” He slumps forward in his seat, hanging his head. Rey can already see him crawling back into his shell.

“You didn’t kill the mood,” Rey comforts , “I just… wasn’t expecting an answer like that. Do you have a piano at home?”

“Yes,” he answers. “Haven’t played in years, though.”

“I don’t care. I would still love to hear you sometime.” Rey says sincerely. He rolls his lips together, considering.

“Sure. If you would like.”

The timer goes off. Rey goes back to work, taking the dough from the fridge and rolling it out before draping it over a tart pan. She pokes the bottom with a fork several times, then fills the pan with dried beans, in order to blind bake the crust. She sticks it into the oven to bake for ten minutes. While that’s happening, Rey starts to make the treacle filling. She pours the golden syrup, lemon zest, and lemon juice into a saucepan before heating it up so she can stir in the breadcrumbs. When everything’s combined, she turns the stove off and lets it sit. She goes to take the beans out from the crust and lets it bake for another five minutes, then whisks the egg and cream together to quickly mix in with the syrupy breadcrumbs. 

As soon as the crust finishes pre-baking, she pours the filling inside and sets it to bake for twenty minutes. As she washes the dishes to kill time, she watches Ben out of the corner of her eye. He’s gotten up from his stool and is walking around the dining area with his hands behind his back, looking out the windows at her backyard.

_He looks so much like Dad right now._

“Did you ever meet my parents?” Rey asks. She’s avoided this topic for a while, but she has to know.

“A few times. When I first came back and a couple times after that — for Christmas and such.” He doesn’t look at her when he speaks, and Rey is grateful. She doesn’t have to hide her reaction.

“What did you think of them?” 

He doesn’t answer right away, instead watching the chickens in the coops peck at each other. But after a while he turns around and looks her straight in the eye.

“I see them in you. Everyone who knew them would be able to tell that you are their daughter.” He walks closer, bracing his hands on the back of his stool. “Those years in London didn’t change you.”

Rey turns back to the sink, struck by his words. It was like he knew exactly what she needed to hear. That she didn’t turn into some stone-cold city bitch after being away for so long. That the daughter her parent’s loved was still here.

“And just for the record,” Rey jumps, not realizing that Ben had creeped up behind her until he was a foot away from her, the heat from his towering figure radiating onto her back. “I don’t think you’re a terrible person for not going to their burial. If they were my parents, I wouldn’t have gone either.” 

Rey doesn’t know what to say, so she settles for drying dishes. Apparently Ben wasn’t expecting a response because he helps her put them away without another word.

The oven dings, breaking the somber atmosphere. Rey puts on an oven mitt and takes it out, the filling a nice golden-brown and smelling delicious. As they wait for it to cool, Rey takes out the topping that Ben said he liked - clotted cream - and takes out plates and forks. After Ben decides they waited long enough, Rey cuts out a slice and dabs on some cream before serving it to him. He doesn’t even wait to sit down before taking a bite. Rey waits in anticipation for his judgment.

First he closes his eyes, focusing on the flavor. Then, he moans. He _moans_. 

“I did good?” she asks, cutting a slice for herself. She looks back at him, and he’s still standing there with his eyes closed, savoring. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Amazing,” Ben finally voices before taking another bite, “I’m never going to that bakery again.”

“Really?” 

“This is the best treacle tart I’ve ever had, Rey.” Ben says with all seriousness.

Rey smiles, elated that he likes it, no, loves it. It makes it all worth it.

But when they go to sit down across from each other at the kitchen table, Rey suddenly remembers…

He eats like an animal. He lays one arm on the table, not even bracing the plate, and lets the one with the fork in it do all the work, smearing the clotted cream over the tart before cutting a huge piece off and shoving it into his mouth. Rey should be disgusted. She knows she should think he’s revolting.

But she doesn’t.

It’s the hottest thing she’s ever seen, a man enjoying her food like that. Scarfing it down like a man who’d been lost at sea and was finally having his first meal. He’s so enthusiastic about it, and when he’s licking the remaining treacle filling from the silver prongs of the fork, Rey can’t help but think about what else that tongue can do.

_Jesus Christ_ , Rey curses as she tries to finish her own slice. 

“Did you…” Rey looks up to see Ben playing with the fork as he tries to build up the courage. “Did you sleep in the living room last night?”

Rey sighs. “How did you know?”

“I didn’t hear you come down the stairs. And I could see the make-shift bed you made for yourself on the floor,” he admits, sheepishly.

Rey slouches, giving up on her tart. “I’ve been going through my parents things at night and it’s… draining.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t do it alone,” Rey catches his eye to see if he’s suggesting what she thinks he is, “You know, like with Rose.”

Oh, Rey thinks. Is she actually disappointed? “You’re right. I know you’re right.” She slides her plate over to him. “You can finish.”

After Ben has his two slices, she wraps the rest of his pie up in plastic for him to take home. They linger at the back door.

“Thanks for the garden supplies,” Rey gestures her head towards the shed where they stored them for later. “It really means a lot."

“Don’t mention it,” he responds, “Thanks for the tart.”

“It was nothing,” she dismisses. “I’m just glad you liked it.”

“I have a feeling I’ll like anything you make, Rey Niima,” he says with a smirk before walking off over the hill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Treacle Tart recipe](https://www.daringgourmet.com/treacle-tart/)
> 
> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/kitty_kat128)


	5. Shepard's Pie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose and Rey go through her parent's belongings. They visit the Solos. Rey and Ben have a chat. Some dog.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [kayla](https://twitter.com/kayla_248) is my goddess
> 
> CW // discussion of mental health, antidepressants, depression

Rey takes Ben’s advice and invites Rose over a few days later. She is more than happy to help, eagerly following whatever instructions Rey gives her while remaining respectful of her grief. They work in silence at first, but one night, Rose lightly suggests that they turn on some music. Rey hesitates before giving her permission. They begin with music, then move on to television shows and movies. With her attention divided, Rey isn’t able to break down as often, and therefore she’s able to get through the belongings faster. She stops sleeping on the ground, Rose making sure that she goes upstairs before she leaves for the night. Rey also finds that she no longer wakes up with tear stains on her pillow case. They settle into this pattern as the garbage bags fill up, and a month after opening the first box, they are on the last.

Rose puts on the 2005 version of _Pride & Prejudice_ as Rey brings in popcorn for them to eat as they go through it. It’s mostly knick-knacks that her parents collected throughout their lives; gifts from friends and family, heirlooms that are now passed down to her. It all goes into the keeps pile - or _piles_. Only two bags are filled with stuff to get rid of, and it’s mostly clothing from both her parents that Rose convinced her she will never wear. Rey knows she’s right, but it still hurts, nevertheless.

“Whoah,” Rose says — Rey focused on shoving popcorn into her mouth and watching Lizzy dance with Mr. Darcy at the ball.

“What?” Rey asks without taking her eyes off the screen.

“Your mother had a recipe book?”

Rey looks at the large scrapbook Rose holds up. Its light blue front was covered in fancy flower stickers and had a photo of Rey as a toddler, mixing something in a bowl with a wooden spoon and a huge grin on her face.

“Oh.” Rey puts the popcorn bowl down and slides down from her place on the couch to a spot on the floor next to Rose. She takes the book from Rose’s outstretched hands. “Yeah, she did. She said it was for…” Rey cuts off, taking a shuddering breath.

_For when she’s gone._

“It’s okay, I get it.” Rose says. “Can we look through it?”

“Sure.” Rey sniffles before opening the book to flip through the pages.

Most of the recipes are basic, ones that Rey has learned through practice anyway. The pumpkin spice cinnamon rolls are in there, along with a dozen different cookie recipes. It’s mostly baking recipes, but Rose stops at a page in the middle.

“Can we make that?” she asks excitedly.

“Shepherd's Pie…” Rey says, reading over the recipe. It’s not her favorite meal, but it was relatively simple and something her mother made whenever her grandparents visited. Rey hasn’t had it since she left, not even a store-made pie. She couldn’t bear to eat a disgusting thing like that. “I’ve never made it before, actually.”

“It doesn’t look that hard,” Rose notes, “But it serves six. That’s a lot for two people, even with leftovers.”

Rey thinks of Ben. She would love nothing more than to see him eat one of her creations again.

“What if we go to the Solos and ask if we can make the pie there and share it with them?” Rey asks, hoping her question comes off innocently.

Rose smirks, seeing through her act instantly. “Sure Rey, that’s a great idea.” She elbows Rey’s side. “You sure that’s the only reason why you want to go over?”

Rey blushes as she stands up. “ _Yes._ ”

“Whatever you say, Rey.” Rose sighs in faux annoyance as she dismantles the now empty box. She looks up at the two trash bags that consist of the things Rey agreed to get rid of. “Hey, we can bring this stuff with us, see if they want any of it.”

Rey doesn’t hear her at first, staring at the picture on the recipe book’s cover. “What?” she asks, looking up.

Rose points to bags sitting next to the front door. “Wanna bring those with us? See if they want anything?”

Rey nods. Rose throws the cardboard away then comes back, hand on her hips as she surveys the six trash bags of things that Rey decided to keep.

“Now where do we put this stuff?” Rose asks.

Rey shrugs. “The master bedroom, I guess.”

Rose drops her arms, her eyebrows creased in concern. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” Rey tosses the recipe book down onto the couch. “Let’s do this.”

Rey holds her breath when she unlocks the door. The fading sunlight from the large window facing the mountains outlines the full bed and wooden dresser besides it. It was a small bedroom, but her parents liked it that way. They liked being close to each other.

Rose tosses a bag onto the bed, sending a plume of dust into the air. “Shit,” she says.

Rey drops her bags along the wall, “I’ll get the hoover.” As she hurries out of the room, she’s shocked to only smell dust and stale air. She isn’t sure if that’s a welcome surprise or the ultimate disappointment.

After they hoover the room and open the window a bit, Rose and Rey go back downstairs to leave. They each take a trash bag and head over to the Solos as the stars appear in the twilight sky.

“Oh, hi girls!” Leia greets when she answers the door. “What are you two doing here?”

“We were going through Rey’s parents’ things, and…” Rose starts, turning to Rey to let her finish.

“And found a recipe book my mother made. There’s a recipe for Shepherd's Pie that serves six, and we thought you might like some.”

“We also thought we could make it here too, if that’s okay.” Rose adds.

“Oh, that’s a great idea!” Leia smiles. “I haven’t even started dinner yet, so you came at the right time.” She eyes the large trash bags they carry in their arms. “And what are these?”

“Things that belonged to my parents that I no longer want anymore.” Rey says matter-of-factly. “Would you like to go through them and see if there’s anything you like?”

“Sure, honey. How thoughtful of you.” Leia opens the door wider. “You can take them to the living room for now.”

Rose and Rey step inside, trying not to trip over Chewie as they enter the living room. Han sits in his usual spot, in the armchair facing the television, but watching the news this time.

“What are you two doing here?” Han asks, echoing his wife. Rey and Rose drop their bags on the carpet, next to the old coffee table.

“We’re making dinner tonight, Han,” Rose chirps. “And leaving stuff for you to go through.”

“Huh?” Han huffs, narrowing his eyes in confusion.

“It’s mostly clothes and stuff that belonged to my parents and I’ll probably never wear them, so…” Rey explains. Han turns back to the television.

“Leia will go through it later; that’s her job.”

“And what’s yours?” Rose teases, a small smile on her face. Han points at the screen.

“To stay up to date, of course. I’m the only one in this house that knows anything about what’s happening.”

“Not even the former member of Parliament?” Rose asks cheekily.

“ _Especially_ not the former member of Parliament.” Han answers, a matching smile on his face.

Rey has kept her mouth shut for as long as she could. “Where’s Ben?” she asks.

“Oh, up in his room, in one of his moods.” Han sighs, pointing vaguely to the ceiling with the remote. “Hasn’t come downstairs all day.”

“Oh,” Rey says, concealing her disappointment with a chipper tone.

“Girls!” Leia calls from the kitchen. Rose and Rey scurry over to help her. 

She knew that Ben had his issues, but she didn’t know it was that bad. To not leave his room, or go into the orchard… it reminds her of the way she was after her parents died - burrowed in her flat with no desire to leave. But he didn’t have a grief to nurture or a home to mourn, so what was his deal? 

The question gnaws at the back of her brain as she takes out ingredients and does whatever Leia tells her to do, the recipe book perched on the counter in a book easel. She tries to come up with a way to ask without sounding as desperate as she is. She cuts the vegetables, Leia boils and mashes the potatoes, and Rose fries the onions and carrots with the lard. When the potatoes are done, Leia adds the lamb and beef stock to the vegetables with Rose’s help. Rey watches from the sidelines, wondering what Ben is doing right now.

After Rose sprinkles in the parsley and mushrooms, Leia covers the mixture to cook for fifteen minutes. While Rose goes to the bathroom, Rey washes the knives and cutting boards in the sink. She doesn’t notice Leia walking up behind her until she feels a light hand pressed to her back.

“What has you so quiet today?” she asks. “Usually you’re the one taking control of the kitchen.”

Rey shrugs, too embarrassed to ask her question. “I don’t know. It’s been a long day.”

“You sure it has nothing to do with my son?” Rey can hear the tease in Leia’s voice.

“He’s in one of his moods?”

Leia starts drying. “It’s nothing to worry about Rey,” she explains. “Just typical Ben behavior.”

“I don’t understand,” Rey says. “What is there for him to be sad about?”

“It’s not about having a reason, dear.” Leia places a hand on her shoulder. “It’s a chemical imbalance in the brain.”

“Is he on medication?” Rey knows she might be overstepping her bounds, but once the flood gate is open, she can’t hold back. 

Leia nods. “He’s been on SSRI’s since he was in university. They work well for him.”

Rey shrugs in agreement. “He never mentioned it.”

“He wouldn’t,” Leia says. “He doesn’t like to talk about it. His grandfather dealt with many of the same issues, in the time before antidepressants and proper diagnoses. He had… unhealthy coping mechanisms.” Rey can tell this a much deeper story, but she doesn’t press. 

“Ben doesn’t like to remember how similar they are, so he denies it most of the time,” Leia continues. “Afraid he’ll follow in his footsteps.”

“He won’t.” Rey answers strongly, even though she doesn’t fully know what she’s defending him from. But she’s confident that Ben can’t be anything but soft and sweet.

“I know,” Leia says. “I know.”

They continue working in silence until Rose bounds back in with her endless smiles and chipper attitude. They add the flour into the mixes bit by bit before letting it sit for another five minutes. After that, they pour the stew into a deep ceramic dish and cover it with the mashed potatoes. Rey grates cheese over it before sliding it into the oven to bake for half an hour. 

As they wait, they go to the living room and start rummaging through the bags. It’s mostly her father’s clothes and fishing gear. She watches as Leia holds shirts up to Han to see if they’ll fit and make a small pile of flannels for Ben. Apparently he has an affinity for them. Leia gratefully accepts the few items that belonged to Rey’s mother, promising to wear the floral skirts and silks scarves as soon as the weather is warm enough. Rey is happy that her parents’ stuff will have a second life, even if it’s not in her own house.

The oven “dings” while they’re packing up her father’s fishing gear, nobody in the Solo house being that big of a fisher. Han gets up from his seat to set the table as the ladies go back to the kitchen to make sure that the pie is baked through before serving it. Once they’re sure it’s good, Leia takes out a serving knife and cuts a piece for Han, Rey, Rose, and herself. Rey notices that she doesn’t cut a piece for Ben, but doesn’t ask why.

They eat in the dining room.

“This is very good ladies; thanks for making it,” Han says in between forkfuls of meat.

“You’re welcome,” Rose says.

“Oh!” Leia exclaims. “It actually is a good thing that you two decided to come over today.” 

“Why is that?” Rey asks.

“Next week, my friend Amilyn Holdo is coming over to visit. She’s from the States and only comes out here once or twice a year. We always throw a big party for her.”

“Oh, yeah. I remember.” Rey vaguely recalls the crowded living room, the mysterious piano music she never found the source too. She always spent most of the evening in front of the telly watching cartoons and eating dessert.

“Well, you’re both invited.” Leia says, “Make sure to wear something nice.”

“Don’t listen to her, girls,” Han interjects. “Leia always makes a fuss over these things.”

“I like to make a fuss over these things. When else do we get to dress up anymore Han?” Leia argues.

Han shakes his head and goes back to his pie, not even bothering to put up a fight. Rey bites her cheek to hold back a smile. 

“What day?” Rose asks.

“Wednesday. I know it’s during the week, but it’s the only night Amilyn is free.”

Rose sighs. “I can’t. I have work early the next day.” She turns to Rey. “But Rey can come.”

“And how would you know, Rose?” Rey says defensively.

“Because you’re unemployed,” she dead-pans. “Plus, you no longer have any boxes to go through.”

Rey playfully kicks her underneath the table.

“So I can count on you Rey, for attending?” Leia asks eagerly. Rey knows she has no excuse.

“Yeah, sure.” She shrugs. Already, she’s dreading the night. 

When they finish, Han clears the table and Rose washes the dishes. Leia cuts a large piece and hands it to Rey with a fork.

“Will you be a dear and take this up to Ben?” she asks.

Rey’s heart skips a beat as she takes the plate. She turns to go to the foyer, but Leia calls her name again.

“Can you also bring up the flannels we picked up for him?” 

Rey does as she asks, flannels tucked under one arm and a plate of Shepherd's Pie held in the other as she makes her way up the stairs. She doesn’t actually know which door is his, but she guesses it's the one at the end of the left hall. It’s the only closed one in the whole house.

She knocks twice. “Yeah?” A bored voice calls out. 

She opens the door.

It’s dark, the only light coming from a string of Christmas lights in a pile on the floor and Ben’s computer screen on his desk. The desktop picture is one of the default night mode ones. 

“Rey?”

She turns to the right and sees Ben stretched out on his bed, leaning against the headboard, his back cushioned with pillow and legs splayed across the single size mattress. He puts down whatever book he was reading.

“You were reading in the dark?” is the first thing that comes out of Rey’s mouth.

“It’s not dark,” he says defensively, crossing his arms. He’s still wearing his pajamas. “What’s that?” He nods at the plate in her hand.

“Shepherd's Pie.” Rey walks over to the side of his bed that’s not against the wall and sits, handing over the plate to him. “From my mum’s recipe book.”

He takes a large bite. She watches anxiously - _why am I still nervous about his reaction, I know what it’ll be_ \- and takes a breath when he hums in delight. “S’good.”

“Good,” Rey echoes, watching as he quickly devours the meat pie. 

“Why do you look at me like that?”

“Like what?” Rey glances down at the black bedsheets, cheeks burning.

“You always stare at me when I try your food.”

“I want to know your opinion.”

“No, it’s more than that,” he presses.

Rey signs, giving into his questioning. “I like the way you eat, Ben, okay?”

He laughs, smiling around the fork in his mouth. “Usually people complain about how I stuff my face.”

“Well I’m not like other people,” she says, playing with the shirts in her lap.

He points at them.“What’s that?”

“Oh, some shirts that belonged to my dad.” Rey holds them out for him to take. “Leia said that you like flannels, so…”

Ben puts them down next to him. “Thanks.” He goes back to eating.

Rey looks around the room, taking it in now that her eyes have adjusted. There’s no artwork on the walls, no posters or prints like the ones that decorated her flat in London, but there are nail holes and scratched paint like there was stuff hanging at some point. They might be packed into the handful of boxes that line the walls, all taped shut with stuff like “Summer clothes” and “Music” written in marker on the side. 

Then there are the piles and piles of books that cover the right side of the room, closest to the bed. From what she can tell, there is stuff of all genres and decades, classics mixed in with modern poetry. Her eyes are drawn back to the desk where next to his computer is a glass of water half-full and a Moleskine notebook.

She looks back at the bed and sees the book he was reading.

“ _Frankenstein_?” she asks, glancing from the cover to Ben’s face.

“It’s a classic,” he says as a way of explanation, finishing off the pie.

“I just didn’t expect you to be much of a reader,” Rey says innocently.

“Why?”

“I don’t know. You didn’t seem like the type. Most farm boys that I know don’t like reading.” Rey shrugs.

“Well I’m not like other farm boys,” Ben says, throwing her words right back at her. She looks down, embarrassed.

Ben places the clean plate on his nightstand before turning to the flannels. 

“These are nice,” he says, putting one on. He adjusts the sleeves and collar, before looking at Rey. “So?”

For a moment Rey thinks she’s looking at a ghost. In the dim lighting, with his pale skin and dark hair, Ben looks like her father. He fills it out much like he did, tight in the shoulders with the sleeves rolled up. She’s overcome by the sudden urge to bury her face in his chest, the way she did when she was a scared little girl.

_But he is not Dad_ , she remembers as she looks up at Ben’s expectant expression. _Daddy is gone and never coming back_.

“It fits,” Rey squeaks out, blinking back tears. She takes the plate and goes to leave the room.

“Wait!” he cries out. Rey turns back. “Was it something I said?”

“No,” Rey wipes at her eyes, frustrated. “You just look like my father, that’s all.”

“Oh.” Ben looks down at his flannel and moves to take it off.

“Stop, Ben.” He freezes with the sleeves halfway down his shoulders. “It’s fine.”

“Okay.” She stands there awkwardly, not really wanting to leave, but not wanting to bother him with her presence either.

“I, um…” Ben starts. “I didn’t go into the orchard today, so there will be extra work tomorrow. It’s also, uh…” Ben clears his throat, “I read online that it’s good to have wildflowers and stuff in the grass around the trees, so we should plant the seeds now if we want them to bloom in the spring.”

“Okay…” Rey says, unsure where this is going.

“If you don’t mind, I could use your help,” he panics at her neutral expression, “I won’t wear your father’s flannels. I promise.”

“Sure. I’ll be happy to,” Rey answers.

“Cool,” he says, playing with his hands. “I should um… it would be helpful if I had your phone number. To let you know when to come.”

“Yeah.” Rey holds out her hand for his phone. She enters her number, the whole time thinking about how awkward and shy he is all of a sudden. Sure he was always different, but it didn’t seem to come from a silent confidence in who he was this time. Before, it always felt like it was her fault for not understanding the kind of person that he is. 

Now _he’s_ the one at a loss of what to say. She hands his phone back to him. 

“Thanks.” Ben says.

“Of course.” Rey slowly walks over to the door. “I’ll see you around, I guess.”

“Yeah.” Ben stands up, as if she was the Queen. “See ya.”

“See ya,” Rey echoes.

She closes the door behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Shepard's Pie recipe](https://www.thespruceeats.com/easiest-shepherds-pie-recipe-435776)
> 
> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/kitty_kat128)


	6. Chocolate Orange Mousse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Ben hang out. Amilyn comes over. They have dinner. Insert Dog.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [kayla](https://twitter.com/kayla_248) is the goodest

That next week, Rey and Ben spend almost every day together. After she takes care of her chores, Rey treks across the moors to the shed in the backyard where Ben is always waiting with a rake or a spade and a task for them to complete that day. The first time, it was planting wildflower seeds like he’d told her the night before. Apparently, many of the natural wildflower meadows are disappearing and the wildlife that depends on those ecosystems are going extinct. There’s a large movement to educate orchard-keepers and to get them to plant flowers in the space between their trees— or at least, that’s what Ben tells Rey.

There’s a light dusting of snow on the ground the morning they go out. Ben instructs her how to dig in the hard dirt and plant the seeds before covering them back up. They go through the entire orchard like that, randomly choosing where to plant the seeds before moving on to the next spot. They are too far apart to have any sort of conversation while working, but when they finish in the early afternoon, they walk back to the shed side-by-side. Rey takes advantage of the situation and attempts to get Ben talking.

“So…” Rey starts. “Your mom told me about your… um…” Rey struggles to find the right phrase.

“My medication?” Ben guesses. Rey looks up and sees his face arranged in resignation.

“Yeah,” she says. “How did you know?”

“My mother is fairly predictable.” He sighs. “She also doesn’t really understand the concept of ‘medical confidentiality’.” Rey assumes that this isn’t the first time that she’s told someone about his issues without his consent.

“What, you wanted to keep your diagnosis a secret from me?” Rey asks, keeping her tone light. The last thing she wants is to make him feel violated, but she wants to _know_ him.

“No, I just… I don't like talking about it. Or thinking about it,” Ben says, his voice softening at the end. 

“Well, I want you to know that it doesn’t change anything between us. I couldn’t care less about it, honestly,” Rey says, the confidence in her tone nearly overwhelming. She isn’t sure if it’s the right thing to say— she’s never really had a conversation like this before— but Ben seems comforted by it as he lets out a long breath of what she guesses is relief.

“Okay,” he says with a brief nod. As they reach the shed, Rey hands Ben her gloves and spades so he can put them back in their proper cubbies.

“And I may have never met your grandfather,” Rey continues, “Nor do I fully know what happened to him, but I _do_ know that you are nothing like him.” 

She sees the way his body tightens at the mention of the man, and even if she can’t see his face yet, she senses that it’s a touchy subject for him. Ben turns around and his eyes are downcast. 

“Thank you.” He blurts out, his voice thick, before retreating into the house. Rey walks home not regretting anything she said.

…

The next day she shows up to the Solo’s uninvited. Ben stares at her like she's a ghost, eyebrows creased as if he’s asking her what she’s doing there.

“I want to help,” Rey says. “I have nothing else to do.”

Ben fiddles with his hand. “Oh. Well, I wasn’t going to the orchard today. My mom says I have to clean the gutters.”

_Leia told him he has to clean the gutters. That’s so cute. I’m gonna die._

“Oh.” Rey shrugs. “That’s fine. I can steady the ladder.”

So that’s what she did. As Ben scooped out leaves and chunks of ice, Rey held the bottom of the ladder and looked up at that little pancake ass of his. 

_So cute. I’m gonna die._

At some point, Leia lets Chewie out and the dog jumps all over her, so she has to shift her priorities. Instead of holding an extremely heavy ladder that she has no hope of catching if it decides to slip, she plays with the dog. She throws the ball that Chewie gives to her over and over again in the manicured lawn, laughing at the dog’s enthusiasm. She doesn’t notice Ben coming down until he speaks to her, arms crossed with an intimidating scowl on his face.

“What happened to steadying the ladder?” he demands. For a moment, she thinks he’s going to yell at her, but then he breaks out into one of the dopiest smiles she’s ever seen. It tugs at her heart and steals her breath.“I’m just kidding, Rey.”

“Oh,” Rey breaths out, smiling in response.

“Play with Chewie all you like.” Ben turns back to the ladder and moves it down a few feet. “Lord knows he never gets any attention around here.” Rey can practically hear his eyes roll. 

By the time Ben finishes, the sun is going down and Rey is sweating in her coat from playing with Chewie. As he returns the ladder to the shed, Rey sheepishly walks up to him.

“Thanks for letting me hang out and play with your dog,” she says. “I promise I’ll be more useful tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Ben echoes. He meets her eyes - one of the first times that he does so - and it’s not annoyance she sees in them, but… hope.

“Is that okay?” she asks, suddenly feeling insecure.

“Yeah. I’ll make sure I have something for us to do,” he says, playing with the gloves in his hands and averting his eyes again.

“Okay.” Rey starts walking backwards to leave. “Bye, Ben.”

“Bye, Rey.”

…

On the fourth day Leia invites her in for breakfast and she has to keep her eyes focused on her plate, otherwise they drift to Ben and his humongous hand stabbing the eggs with his tiny fork and shoving them between his luscious lips. Thankfully there are dozens of grocery bags taking up the counter space, and Rey has something to talk about.

“What’s all this food for?” she asks. Leia looks up from her place at the sink where she is washing dishes.

“For the party on Wednesday,” she says matter-of-factly.

“You’re going to cook everything all by yourself?” 

“Of course, dear. I always have,” Leia scoffs. “Do you know how scandalous it would be for a food blogger like me to hire a caterer?” Leia shudders at the thought.

“Oh,” Rey says. “Can I help, then?”

“Of course, Rey.” Leia brings her hand to the sides of her face, smiling ear to ear. “This will be so lovely! Amilyn will be able to try your food, and…” Leia sighs contentedly. “Brilliant idea, Rey. Brilliant!”

Rey goes back to eating, peeking a look at Ben who seems to be stifling a laugh.

_Oh God, what did I just get myself into?_

…

Wednesday morning Rey makes her way across the moor as usual, but this time with a duffle in tow. Ben texted her the night before - the first time that he’s ever done so - to tell her to bring the stuff she was going to wear to the party with her.

 _Mum wanted me to tell you to bring the shit you’re gonna wear to the party or whatever with you,_ he texted. _It’s gonna be a long day tomorrow…_

Rey texted back, _Okay :)_

He didn’t respond after that.

Rey knocks on the door, smiling at the sound of Chewie’s toenails on the hardwood. That sound will never fail to cheer her up.

“Oh, Rey,” Leia says as she opens the door, looking frazzled. She’s still wearing her silk nightgown but with an apron thrown on over it. “You don’t have to knock anymore, silly girl.”

“Oh, okay,” Rey says, stepping inside. She takes off her boots and coat, bending down to pet Chewie and put her bag down. “Hi baby, long time no see,” she coos.

“Come on Rey, no time for dilly-dallying!” Leia calls from the kitchen. Rey sighs good naturedly, getting back to her feet and making her way to the kitchen.

“I see she wrangled you into her party preparations,” Hans says as he walks past her on his way to the living room, cereal in hand.

“Actually, I volunteered.”

“Well ain’t that a surprise,” Han jokes, stepping around the dog as Chewie switches his attention from Rey to his owner.

Rey eyes the vases of flowers and other decorations that cover the dining room table waiting to be put away as she passes into the kitchen. 

“So, you have a couple of options, Rey,” Leia starts, fluttering from the counter to the sink to wash dough off of a spoon. “You can help me make the recipes that I have planned, or you could make something of your own.” 

“Oh,” Rey says. “Well, what do you have?”

“Just about everything.” Leia chuckles. “You can make anything you like.”

Rey goes through the few recipes she has memorized, trying to pick one out that’s appropriate for a dinner party.

“What about chocolate orange mousse?” Rey asks. It’s a recipe that her mother used to bring out for their Christmas parties. It was one of her favorites and Rey hasn’t had it since she left for London.

“That sounds wonderful, dear,” Leia says. “I have tons of chocolate, sugar, and the orange liqueur is in the cabinet over there.” She clears off a section of the counter space. “Go crazy.”

Rey rolls up her sleeves, preparing to get to work.

First she combines the chopped chocolate, liquor, water and vanilla extract in a bowl that she sets in a pan of water on the stove to melt. When it’s done she lets it cool before whisking in the orange zest and butter.

She goes into a zone, blocking out Leia and Chewie as she flits throughout the kitchen and uses the electric mixer to make the mousse. 

She doesn’t notice Ben watching her until he says,“Why do you like cooking so much?”

Rey snaps her head up. Ben leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, appraising her. He’s wearing those same sweatpants and t-shirt from the first time she saw him dressed down. She doesn’t let her eyes roam down to his uncovered feet.

“What?” Rey yells, kicking the mixer to a higher speed as the recipe calls for. The sound is deafening, preventing any sort of conversation. She watches as he walks across the room and takes a seat at one of the stools at the island, sitting directly across from her. She’s suddenly aware that Leia is no longer in the room. 

“Why do you like cooking so much?” he repeats when Rey turns the mixer off. 

Rey shrugs as she folds the heavy cream and more sugar into the mixture. “My mother was a cook and a baker. It reminds me of her.” She had thought the answer was obvious, but clearly it wasn’t if Ben felt the need to ask. She looks up at him and meets his eyes. “I only have good memories and feelings associated with food, so I’m always drawn back to it.” He doesn’t say anything as she turns the mixer back on, adds the whipped cream, and waits for it to finish. 

“You should go to culinary school,” Ben says, restrained excitement clear in his tone. Rey scoffs, taking out several small dishes to pour the mousse into.

“Yeah, maybe when I’m dead.” She continues after seeing Ben’s confused expression. “There’s no way I can afford it.”

“Why don’t you sell the house?” he asks innocently. 

Rey stiffens, a flash of fear and anger sliding down her spine. “Absolutely not,” she says, her tone low and certain. She doesn’t look away from her pouring, but she can feel that he was stunned by her reaction. “Why don’t you go back to London?” Rey asks in a desperate attempt to change the subject.

Now Ben stiffens, drawing his arms closer to his body, hunching into himself. “That’s impossible,” he mumbles. 

“Why?” Rey asks, honestly curious. She remembers what Rose told her, but she wants to hear it from the source.

“Because it just is,” he says curtly to the countertop.

Rey feels bad suddenly, so she holds out the bowl of leftover mousse as a consolation. He slowly looks up, eyes flickering between her own and the bowl. She smiles, pushing the bowl towards him more and raising an eyebrow in invitation. 

Ben sticks out a finger and gathers plenty of mousse on his fingertip before sticking it into his mouth. He nods, humming his approval. 

But then his lips form into a smirk.

Rey wasn’t aware of the way she bit her lip when he licked the chocolate off, so she was disarmed by the spark in his eye as he reached back in for more. But this time he made a show of it. Sticking his tongue out and running it up and down his finger, never breaking eye contact. Rey could feel her cheeks heat up and her lips broaden into a cheshire grin.

She doesn’t realize how close she’s leaned in towards him until he swipes up more, not even having to reach his arm out anymore. He just hooks his wrist down and picks up more chocolate. Rey is so close, she smells the chocolate on his breath when he opens his mouth to stick his entire finger in his mouth, slowly sucking it like a popsicle.

“Ben!” Han yells from the living room, footsteps heading towards them.

Rey and Ben jerk away from each other. Rey almost drops the bowl in her fright, but she saves it. Ben wipes his finger on his pants as Han walks into the room.

“What, Dad?” Ben asks, his voice an octave higher than normal. 

Han pauses in the doorway, eyebrow arched as he looks between the two of them. “Did I interrupt something?”

“No!” They both shout at the same time. Rey hurries to the sink and starts washing the bowl out to give her something to do.

“Okay…” Han says, slapping his hands on his thighs the way that old men do. “You should start getting ready, son.”

“What about you, _Dad_?” Ben retorts, eyeing Han’s similar state of dress. Han waves him off.

“Don’t talk back to your old man, Benjamin. Go upstairs and get dressed,” he says firmly yet full of love.

Ben rolls his eyes as he slides off the stool and makes his way to the stairs. Han reaches out to pat his shoulder, but Ben moves out of his reach.

Rey looks away, back to the bowl in her hands as she tries to hold back a laugh. Han wanders over the island, looking over the mousse in the dishes. “Wow,” he says, hands on his hips. “I’m impressed, Rey.”

“Thank you,” she says. “It’s no big deal, though.”

“Hey,” he says sternly. Rey looks at him, as he points a finger at her. “Don’t sell yourself short. That’s a bad habit.”

“Yes, sir,” Rey chuckles. She leaves the bowl to soak and wipes her hands on a towel. “Where’s Leia?”

“Right here, dear.” Leia floats in, now dressed in a beautiful deep purple beaded dress and her hair in an elaborate braided hair style, a matching ribbon adorning it. “Had to prepare the rest of me.”

“Wow,” Rey says. “You look beautiful, Leia.”

“I would have to agree,” Han says, his eyes locked on his wife. He reaches out and grabs her wrist, pulling her to him and whispering something in her ear. By the way she tries to pull away and smack his chest, Rey can guess the type of comment he just made.

“So where can I get ready?” Rey asks, desperate to get away from their lovey-dovey ness. 

“You can use one of the guest bathrooms - Han get off of me! - It’s up the stairs, down the right hallway, first door on your left - Han Solo, I’m serious!” Leia keeps trying to pull away, but her husband keeps bringing her back, his arms wrapped around her waist. She’s smiling as she’s berating him, taking all the weight out of her words.

Rey rushes out and grabs her bag before it becomes too much.

…

The guest bedroom has its own bathroom. Rey is tempted to take a shower, but she already took one this morning and didn’t bring any of her hair products—something she regrets now after seeing how put together Leia was. She only brought some bobby pins and a hair tie, along with the simple dark green chiffon dress she’s had since high school.

As she studies herself in the mirror, smoothing the knee length skirt and adjusting the short cape sleeves, she suddenly feels terribly underdressed. She sighs. There’s nothing that can be done about that now. Thankfully, she at least had the foresight to bring tights.

After sliding on her black kitten heels, Rey combs through her hair and decides on a simple high bun, everything else being out of the question with her limited supply. She pulls out a few strands in the front to frame her face before applying the lip gloss she found in one of the drawers at home. She doesn’t remember the last time she wore makeup, not to mention this particular shade, but it’s better than nothing.

The doorbell rings. Chewie barks before the door opens and Rey can hear Leia’s voice and another woman exclaim in greeting. Rey takes one last look at herself in the mirror before opening the door, quietly creeping to the staircase.

_Fuck, why am I nervous?_

“Han, good to see you as always,” the woman’s voice says.

“The same to you, Amilyn.” Han huffs out. She can imagine him stuffing his hands in his pockets and glaring at the floor.

“Is Ben up in his room?”

“I’m right here, Amilyn,” Rey hears Ben say from downstairs—she thinks from the living room.

“I was just asking.” There’s a pause as Rey assumes they hug. “Is it just me or does he keep getting bigger?”

“It’s just you,” Ben responds dryly. 

Before Leia can say anything, Rey scurries into the light, looking down at the stairs as she descends.

“And who’s this?” Amilyn asks slyly. 

Rey stops, snapping her head up to find everybody staring at her. Her eyes jump from Han, to Leia, to the older, purple-haired woman Rey guesses to be Amilyn, and finally to Ben.

She can’t look away from him.

His mouth is open, his eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets. It’s similar to the looks she would get from men as she walked past clubs late at night in the summer, but this is different. It’s not slimy or predatory. He’s not looking _at_ her; he’s _seeing_ her. She can tell by the depth of his eyes, the brown color in keeping with the force of his gaze.

But she’s seeing him too. He wears a black button down, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and tucked into a form fitting pair of black dress pants. A black pair of oxfords adorn his large feet, and Rey is captivated by the monochrome outfit in a way that she really shouldn’t be in polite company. His hair doesn’t help matters, now smoothed back with a hint of gel. It’s just as becoming as when it’s all tousled in the morning.

Their mutual staring is broken when Leia clears her throat.

“Rey, this is Amilyn. Amilyn, this is Rey, our neighbor.”

Rey makes her way down the rest of the stairs, standing in front of the tall, imposing woman. “Hi,” she squeaks out, still scrambled from the sight of a put-together Ben.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Amilyn says, taking Rey’s outstretched hand into hers. “Leia has told me so much about you.”

“She has?” Rey asks, looking toward Leia, who seems to be bursting with joy at the interaction happening in front of her.

“Oh, yeah,” Amilyn scoffs. “From my understanding you enjoy cooking as well?”

“Yeah,” Rey says. “But just for fun though.”

“Isn’t it always for fun?” Amilyn winks. 

“Take it to the living room, please.” Leia ushers both of them in there. “Eat the hor d’oeuvres I’ve laid out, and dinner will be ready in half-an-hour.”

Leia rushes into the kitchen, leaving Rey, Amilyn, and the boys to their own devices. Amilyn takes a seat on the couch and picks up a cracker and some cheese, already making herself at home. Rey sheepishly sits down next to her, trying to copy her perfect posture. 

For the first time, she notices the spectacular dress she’s wearing— a silver flapper dress that looks like it was altered to have long sleeves and a high neckline. The beading twinkles in the dim light and Rey is fascinated by the matching earrings she wears.

“I love your dress,” she says.

“Why thank you, Rey.” Amilyn smiles. “I was hoping someone would notice the effort I put into this ensemble.” She glances at Han and Ben, both occupying the two arm chairs and watching the telly. “Men never notice these things, you know.” Amilyn lowers her voice, “Well, most men.” She elbows Rey and tilts her head in Ben’s direction.

Rey blushes, ducking her head. “What do you do, Amilyn?” she asks, changing the subject.

Amilyn leans back against the couch. “Leia didn’t tell you?”

Rey shakes her head. Amilyn smiles to herself.

“I’m the editor in chief for the largest fashion magazine in the United States.”

Rey swallows, feeling stupid. “Oh.”

“Does that change your opinion about me?”

Rey thinks for a moment. “No, but the dress makes more sense.”

Amilyn chuckles. “Yeah, Leia and I always had style in common. We met in university, you know.”

“Really?”

Amilyn nods. “We were roommates freshman year and have remained friends ever since.”

“That’s so cool,” Rey says, gaining the nerve to pick up a cracker and put some meat on top.

“The universe was kind in that way.” Amilyn finishes her cracker. “What about you, dear.”

Rey shrugs. “Nothing, really.”

Amilyn squishes her eyebrows together in concern. “What do you mean?”

Rey scrambles for an answer. “I’ve lived in London the past five years. I just came back a month or so ago and I’ve been too busy to look for a job.”

“Why did you come back?”

“I was let go from my job. And it was time for me to come home.” Rey says, tiptoeing around the aching hole in her story.

“Do you wish you had stayed in London?” Amilyn teases. From the corner of her eye, she swears she sees Ben perk up, turning his head just slightly towards the two of them.

“No,” Rey shakes her head. “Not at all.”

“Dinner!” Leia calls. The two men quickly stand up and walk to the dining room. Rey and Amilyn share a laugh at their expense, following them.

The table is set with fine china. Leia takes the head of the table, Han to her right and Ben to her left. Rey rushes to the other side of the table to sit next to Ben. She can’t afford to look at him during this dinner. Nobody gives a second thought to her seating choice and she knows Ben is too much of a chicken to ask about it. That doesn’t stop him from smirking in satisfaction. Amilyn sits across from her and they dig in.

Rey doesn’t pay close attention to the conversation, too occupied with the rich meat and delicious vegetables. The wine that Leia has set out is the most rich thing that Rey has ever tasted, and before she knows it, she’s already downed three glasses. 

She’s helping herself to more vegetables when the sound of her name brings her back to reality. 

“What?”

“You and Ben have been spending a lot of time together?” Leia asks. Rey turns to Ben and sees his clenched jaw and eye twitch. Whatever they’ve been talking about, he doesn’t like.

“Uh, yeah,” Rey says. “Just helping him around the orchard and stuff.”

“How nice of you,” Amilyn remarks. “Maybe your enthusiasm will spark something in Ben.”

“Amilyn…” Leia admonishes weakly, but Amilyn ignores her, picking up her glass for another sip.

“What? I just think Ben should make something of himself now, considering how smart he is.” She looks at Ben, “Don’t you think so?”

Rey turns to Ben, her hands suddenly drawn by his hand clenching and unclenching on top of his thigh. He looks like he wants to punch something.

Without thinking, Rey reaches out and places her hand on top of his. She feels his body stiffen, but his eyes don’t show the shock. They only soften and look down from Amilyn to the table. With his other hand he picks up his fork and spears some vegetables. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he murmurs.

“Your Chelsea people aren’t doing too good, Amilyn,” Han butts in enthusiastically.

“Neither are your boys, Han. I don’t know why you want to have this conversation.”

With the subject now changed, Rey retracts her hand. Ben turns his hand over and for the briefest of moments her fingertips graze over his calloused palm. It feels like stroking fire as she quickly tucks her hand in between her legs and gulps down more wine.

Neither of them acknowledge the moment for the rest of the dinner.

“Rey may have been coy with you earlier,” Leia starts, coming back from the kitchen with a plate of her chocolate orange mousse. “But she made the dessert for us tonight and I want your honest opinion ”

“Ooo! How exciting!” Amilyn clasps her hands in front of her as Leia puts down a bowl.

Rey watches as Amilyn picks up her spoon and takes a bite. She doesn’t even turn her head to look at Ben.

“Do you like it?” Rey asks.

Amilyn widens her eyes, looking at Rey with shock as she swallows. “Like it? I love it.” She eagerly takes another bite. “This is the best mousse I’ve ever had.”

Rey blushes. “Oh wow.” She looks down at the table. 

“Is this your recipe?”

“It was my mother’s.” There’s a pause as Amilyn swallows another spoonful.

“This is amazing. Does she have other recipes?”

“She did. I know most of them by heart though.”

Amilyn wipes her mouth with a napkin. “I don’t want to push you or anything,” she starts, “but I have an eye for these things.”

“Okay…” Rey doesn’t know where she’s going with this.

“Have you ever thought about starting a blog, like Leia?”

_I’m too inebriated to be having this conversation right now._

Rey shakes her head no.

“There really is a growing audience for food blogs, especially for niche cuisines like British country food,” Amilyn goes on. “It would give you something to do and maybe if it’s successful, it could become a source of income.”

“Okay.” Rey answers politely. It does sound nice, making money off of her cooking. And she would be able to stay here in her home…close to Ben...

“I can help you set it up, if you would like.” Leia offers.

“I don’t know. I have to think about it,” Rey says, shoveling mousse into her mouth. 

This is too much, too fast. She needs to talk to Rose.

“Take as much time as you need,” Amilyn comforts. “But please consider it. I hate seeing talent go to waste.”

…

Rey announces that she’s heading back home a few hours later. She brings down her bag and switches her kitten heels for snow boots before putting on her coat. Amilyn gives her her phone number and email, making Rey promise she would let her know her decision on the blog no matter what it is. She hugs Han and Leia, and kisses Chewie on his head. The only remaining person is Ben.

The others drift back to the living room, giving them their privacy, except for Chewie. He stays by Ben’s side, panting happily. Rey easily ignores him, focused totally on Ben. He holds open the door for her, fiddling with the doorknob. The cold doesn’t bother her, and Ben doesn’t seem to so much as shiver.

“I, uh…” he swallows, blushing. “Thanks. For earlier.”

“Of course.” She grips the strap of her bag that crosses her chest. They stand there in silence. Rey doesn’t want to leave, and she would like to imagine he doesn’t want her to either, but it’s fucking cold and she’s really sleepy.

“Bye.” She steps across the threshold.

“Rey…”

She turns around to see Ben reaching out and placing a hand on her bicep. Even though it’s on top of her coat and she can’t feel it directly, his touch still burns, leaving a trail of fire as he slides it down to her elbow. She finds herself letting go of the strap and holding her arm out for him to continue down her forearm, eventually reaching her hand. 

When his fingertips brush over her bare knuckles she turns it over and holds onto him. 

It’s just his hand, but Rey feels that for this moment, it’s enough. If she never got to touch him ever again, this moment right here - slightly drunk, with his hand in hers in the freezing wind - could sustain her until the next life. She looks up from the sight of their connected hands to his face and sees her feelings reflected back at her. There’s no doubt about what he’s feeling this time. They both recognize the axis-shifting touch this has become. Is she hallucinating, or is he leaning in?

BARK!

They both jump apart, shocked by Chewie’s lone bark. The world rushes back in and Rey realizes her ears are gonna fall off if she doesn’t get home soon.

“Bye, Ben.”

He blinks, as if he’s seeing her in a different light. “Goodnight, Rey.”

She turns around and hurries towards home, all the time feeling Ben’s eyes boring into her back as she summits the hill and walks out of view.

**END OF WINTER**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chocolate Orange Mousse [recipe](https://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/ina-garten/chocolate-orange-mousse-recipe-2040248)
> 
> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/kitty_kat128)


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